He was my Cream, and I was his Coffee
by vibrantblueeyes
Summary: Coffee shop AU with the House of Anubis characters. Nina and Eddie Martin move to England due to a surprising scholarship opportunity at a university. They come across a nearby coffee shop and bookstore where they get to meet a spectacular group of people.
1. Friendly Service

**Nina's PoV**

"You took the wrong street, moron," I grumble, turning up the heat to full blast.

"Did not! The guy specifically said it's a half mile past-"

"I don't even want a waffle anymore," I cross my arms and scowl at him.

"Are you serious? We just drove for an hour so you could have your stinking waffle and now you don't want one?_ Unbelievable_," he momentarily averts his gaze from the road to scowl at me.

"I just need…coffee. I haven't had coffee in a really long time," I plead, pointing to a cozy looking place advertising that it has delicious coffee.

"But you had coffee yesterday!" he protests.

"And I want coffee today."

"You know there are probably no Starbucks around here. This is the only coffee shop for miles and it's probably going to be horrible."

"Oh come on, don't be a grumpy pants," I tease, using the nickname Gran gave him that he detests.

"Whatever," he shuts off the car and climbs out, grumpily muttering to himself about how he hopes I'll hate it.

"You're the best," I cry, twirling around in the snow.

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbles, "Get inside before I change my mind."

I giggle and race to the front door, "Rodenmaar's Reads and Trudy's Treats, Sweets, and Drinks."

"Also a bookstore? Fantastic," he shakes his head, "Now we're never going to leave."

"Maybe you'll actually like it," I punch him playfully and we open the door, making the bell jingle and causing the people inside to look up.

My name is Nina Martin and I'm 19 years old. My twin brother, Eddie Martin, and I just moved to England from America. We were offered a scholarship at a University here, so we took the chance as soon as we could. We're fraternal twins so we don't look or act anything alike. We were living with our Grandma in Los Angeles until the opportunity arose for a new adventure in a different country. Currently a new semester is just about to start. After a bit of research we realized the school would be perfect. I'm majoring in world history and it has tons of great classes for that career choice and a wonderful musical arts program for Eddie. The scholarship came a little late so naturally we rushed here as soon as we could, but luckily they'll still take us in. It'll be a bit before we actually have to attend school so for now we're just taking a look around.

At the counter of the bookstore part I spot a boy and girl handing a book to an older lady. At the coffee shop part I can see a redheaded girl and dark haired girl chatting while sipping from coffee cops. There are not really very many people here, just a scattered bunch who are quietly reading books and munching on pastries.

Eddie and I walk over to the coffee section and view all of the delectable goods. Cookies, cakes, candies, muffins, bagels, and treats galore!

The redheaded girl quits talking to her friend and turns to us with an impatient expression.

"What can I get for you two?" she asks, British accent very clear, and pulls out a pad of paper with a pen.

I spot her name tag, Patricia W, "I'd like a pumpkin spice latte and a blueberry muffin please."

"Well Patty," Eddie begins which makes her roll her eyes and her friend giggle, "I'd like an iced tea and a sugar cookie."

"It's _Patricia_," she snaps, "And we're out of sugar cookies."

"They're right there!" Eddie points to a batch of unfrosted sugar cookies near the counter.

"Not ready yet, sorry," she replies, her sardonic tone full of irritation towards my brother.

"Can't you just get me one when they're ready?" he scoffs.

"No can do," she shakes her head in mock sadness.

"Friendly service here," he sneers, "Nothing else for me then."

"That'll be £5."

Eddie pulls out some money out of his pocket and hands it to her.

"This is American money," she says slowly, enunciating every word, "We don't take that here."

"We don't take that here," he mimics and grumpily hands her the right money.

"Your order will be ready in a minute," she yanks the money from his hands and stuffs it into the machine.

We go to sit down and I chuckle, "I've never seen anybody treat you like that."

"Treat me like what? We were just talking, Nina."

"Didn't seem like it to me," I tease him, "Does somebody have a wittle cwush on a pwetty girl?"

"Oh shut up," he rolls his eyes, "That girl is so annoying. No wonder America split off from the British, they're the worst!"

I laugh, "I'm going to see if there are any good books," I point a stern finger at him, "Don't get into any trouble while I'm gone!"

"I will if I want to!" he childishly calls after me as I head for the bookstore section.

A dark, curly haired girl is at the counter, absorbed in a book. I don't want to disturb her so I head for the shelves of books. After a few minutes of browsing, I notice a boy not far from me. He seems to work here and is reaching on his tippy toes to place books back onto the shelves. If these are the kind of men Britain wants to offer me than I am extremely pleased. With his boyish cuteness and tousled brown hair, who could resist him? I tiptoe over to him, hoping to get a chance to talk with them.

"Hello?"

The boy turns to me with an expression of surprise and a pile of books falls down on him. Blushing, he kneels down to pick them up and I join him. We both reach for the same book and after an awkward moment I decide to just take it. Then we both stand up and get a good look at each other. From up close I can see his soft blue eyes, oh wow is he cute!

"I'm Nina," I smile and offer my hand.

"Fabian," he says in return, shaking my hand and smiling kindly back. He is definitely British and I am definitely going to like the country a lot more now.

"American?" he asks, putting the books back on the shelves.

"I guess my accent kind of gives it away," I laugh, biting my lip.

"Well er, your shoes give it away a tad bit more."

I look down at my shoes in horror to see that they are my Vans with the American flag on them. Of all the shoes to wear I had to pick these? I am such a typical American!

"I'm so oblivious," I flush a crimson red, "Didn't even realize!"

He relaxes and laughs, his blue eyes twinkling, "It's alright. American doesn't always mean bad."

"That Patricia girl over there doesn't seem to think so," I comment, giving him back the book.

"Well she doesn't necessarily like anybody," he added, more as an afterthought, "Other than Joy."

"Joy?"

"The other girl who works at the coffee shop," he explains to me.

"So you're all friends around here?"

"For the most part," he smiles then his eyes widen in horror, "Oops, I completely forgot! Do you need help with anything? Finding a book or…?"

"Oh!" I exclaim, slightly disappointed he switched the conversation so quickly, "Do you guys have the third Harry Potter, I think I left my copy back at home."

"Ah," he grins and leads me to a different section, "The Prisoner of Azkaban is one of my favorites."

"Me too! I just love Sirius Black," I gush.

"Couldn't agree more," he's once again on his tippy toes, reaching for the book. When he gets it he hands it to me and I take it gratefully, "Anything else?"

"Nah," I shake my head, "At least for now. I'm sure I'll be back!"

We walk back to the counter and he elbows Mara, "Oh, hello!"

"Mara, this is Nina. Nina, this is Mara," he introduces us and we shake hands.

"So you're American," she comments and I laugh uneasily, hoping she can't see my shoes.

"Indeed," I muse, "Nothing gets past you Brits."

They both laugh and I sigh with relief, thankful that they understand sarcasm. The man at the train station was not quite as fluent when Eddie and I were joking around about America.

"Nina's a Harry Potter fan," Fabian adds excitedly.

"Really?" Mara's smile becomes wider, "Anybody who likes Harry Potter is okay in my books."

"_Americans_," Patricia begins scathingly, who has just joined us and angrily thrusts the coffee and muffin into my hands, "Your only reference to the UK is Harry Potter, it's just so typical."

"Don't hate on Potterheads," chides Fabian, "If you really tried reading them-"

"Don't want to hear it," she cuts him off and walks back to her counter before he can say another word.

"She's very friendly," I remark sarcastically.

"Don't worry about Patricia, she's just mad that we have actual customers," enlightened Mara.

I raise an eyebrow, "Is it odd for you guys to have customers?"

They nod and Fabian shrugs, "Nobody really comes here."

"That's a shame," I pay for the book and thank them both, "Well it was nice meeting you two!"

"I hope I'll be seeing more of you," Fabian grins slightly then realizing his mistake, blushes, "I mean _we_! _We_ want to see you again! "

Laughing, I wave goodbye and join Eddie once again at the table.

"Does somebody have a wittle cwush on a pwetty boy?" Eddie holds his hands together and sighs dramatically.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I grumble, taking a bite of my muffin and occasionally glancing back at Fabian. Our eyes meet and we both turn away, furiously blushing.

"Young love," Eddie smirks.

"Ha ha, very funny," I take a long deep from my coffee before teasing him anymore, "At least I'm not the only American here head over heels for a British person."

"I am not _head over heels_ for that redheaded she beast," he retorts sulkily.

"That's what they all say," I tsk, "Now you're denying it but soon you'll be ogling over her like it's nobody's business."

"Fat chance," he scoffs, "The day I am attracted to that girl is the day that I no longer am an American."

"What a jolly good joke, my fellow English mate," I (horribly) attempt a British accent, "We Brits do love a wee joke these days."

"That is _not_ how we talk," an annoyed Patricia is standing over us, Eddie's iced tea in hand and a scowl across her face. She must be a fan of eavesdropping and popping up at random times, "Here's your iced tea, Americano."

"You sure love to talk a lot, don't you?" Eddie yanks the iced tea from her hands, "Or as some people say, _yack. _I think I'm going to call you Yacker."

"Yacker?" she says through gritted teeth, "You little slimeball, don't you dare call me that."

I shove the muffin in my mouth to suppress the giggles coming out.

"Sorry Yacker but your nickname is already set in stone," he shakes his head mournfully, "I dub thee now and forever Yacker."

"You are unbelievable," she replies sourly and retreats back to the table, grumbling to herself about how idiotic Americans are.

"Catch you later, Yacker!" he cries eagerly, "Hope to hear that yacking voice of yours again soon!"

"You're so mean," I start to giggle, but glance around one more time to look at Fabian.

"Will you stop looking at him?!" Eddie groans, sticking a straw in his iced tea, "You are the most obvious person I have ever met!"

"It's true," I moan, facepalming, "Just look at my shoes!" I throw my foot up on the table to show Eddie.

"It can't be," he gasps in mock horror, "How could you do this to me?!" He yanks one of my shoes off.

"Eddie no!" I cry, laughing, "I need my shoes!"

"This won't do at all, now will it?" he scolds, holding the shoe high above his head as I try to reach for it.

"Give it back!" I stand up and grasp the shoe firmly in my hands, pulling back as hard as I can.

"Not strong enough," he grins, lazily leaning back in the chair, "This is too easy."

Finally I have the shoe back in my possession and hastily shove it back onto my foot, "You're such a dork!"

"Takes one to know one."

* * *

**Fabian's PoV**

"Earth to Fabian? Is anybody in there? Hello?"

Jerkily, I turn away from Nina and glance up at Mara who's staring at me with a curious expression.

"We've made contact, there is life on this planet," she laughs.

"Sorry I was just…distracted."

"Distracted by the new American girl?" she wiggles her eyebrows smiling cunningly.

"What happened to the quiet and professional Mara who never invades anyone's private lives?" I question, quickly changing the subject.

"What happened to the Fabian who like books and not girls?" she teases.

"Well," I lean against the counter, a small smile playing on my face, "I just can't help it when I meet a cute girl who also likes books."

She gasps, pretending to be offended, "I'm not the only cute girl who likes books in your life? How can this be, I thought we had something more!"

Laughing, I absentmindedly rearrange a few books, "She's just…so different."

"I didn't know you were into exotic things," Mara giggles.

"What has gotten into you lately? All of a sudden you're interested in my love life!" I cry, prodding her playfully, "Don't go all girly on me."

"Don't you worry about that, but really, if you like her so much why don't you ask her out on a date?"

"A date?" my eyes widen in horror, "I'm not going to ask her _on a date._ We've only just met, I barely even know her."

"Then get to know her," Mara urges, "Maybe you can-Oh."

"What is it?" I ask quizzically but I see what she is staring at. Nina has put her foot up on the table and I notice that she is with another guy. They're both laughing and suddenly she's trying to grab something out of his hands.

"Oh," I mutter bleakly, "She's flirting with another guy."

"Maybe they're just friends?" she suggests feebly.

"Hardly. Guess I never really even had a chance with her."

"Don't give up hope Fabian!" she earnestly grabs my hands, "You can win her over!"

"Look at him," I cry, pointing to the other boy, "He's American and good looking! They're probably hopelessly in love."

"Well if she was flirting with you maybe that means she likes you more."

"I wish," I mumble dejectedly, "She probably wasn't even flirting with me. I am so pathetic."

She rubs my shoulders comfortingly, "I'm sorry Fabian."

Mara and I are pretty good friends.

No, not _that_ kind of friends, mind you!

But either way, I'm getting off topic. We met at our university and since we're both majoring in Literature we obviously had many classes together. After various teachers partnering up we started hanging out more. Then she introduced me to where she worked, begging me to fill out an application so she wouldn't be so bored. I got to work at the front desk with her and later, Patricia and Joy also started working here. Patricia, despite her constant foul mood is actually quite funny if you dig beneath all of the scowls. Joy's nice enough, but she's constantly acting as if we're a couple, which in my opinion is rather odd, considering I've known her for what, three months? Mara is the one I get along with best. With our similar interests and ideas, what was the chance of us not becoming friends? But I guess the four of us are all sort of friends, in a way that one makes friends in situations where opportunities for such things are rare. On our breaks we'll drink coffee and eat a treat, occasionally talking about school, the weather, or whatever else comes to mind. I enjoy working here, despite the management. Victor, our manager, is a grouchy old man who is always yelling at customers and us. But luckily Trudy, who owns the coffee shop part of the place, is very sweet and motherly to us all, demanding that we help ourselves to anything we want. It had been a surprise that she agreed to work with Victor, but I suspect that she might fancy him, which is odd but love is blind as they say!

So as we lounge against the counter, with Mara soothing me, all that I can think about is Nina. Perhaps I am working myself up over nothing, I've only just met the girl! But there's just something special about her that I can't quite pinpoint and I have a burning desire to get to know her better.

Well and she's also very pretty.

And into books.

Did I mention she's very pretty?

Oh goodness, I _am _pathetic!

* * *

**Joy's PoV**

Patricia comes back from serving the two American customers and I'm eyeing them curiously.

"American huh," I muse, "That guy's pretty good looking, you have to admit. Well not as good looking as Fabian," I giggle.

"Really, Joy? Good looking?" she scoffs, "More like the devil's spawn. And will you stop talking about Fabian for once?" she groans, wiping the counter with a washcloth.

"I can't help it," I sigh, "He's just so cute and nice and smart and nerdy…"

"May I point out that you are none of these things. What do you two even have in common?"

"That we like each other," I laugh, raising my eyebrows, "Are you doubting the fact that we are practically _made_ for each other?"

"Uh yes," she replies, "And you don't know if he likes you. It's been a few months since you two have met and nothing really has happened."

"You're not very helpful!" I cry, "This is Best Friend Stuff 101, geesh."

"I don't _do _lovey dovey gooey mushy stuff, sorry," she shakes her head, a grimace crossing over her face, "Talking about boys is just so…cliché."

"Really? You and the American were getting a little…"

"A little what?" she asks, her tone leaking annoyance.

"Likeinthemovieswhenpeoplearesoinlovethattheyareye llingbutthentheymakeout," I say quickly, not breathing in between my words.

"What was that?" she demands.

"Nothing!" I grin, grabbing a cupcake from underneath the counter, becoming extremely interested in unwrapping the paper.

"If you think that I like that _weasel," _she says his name as if it's poison in her mouth, "then you are sorely mistaken."

"If you say so," I say in a singsong voice, hardly believing her.

Finally it's time for our lunch break and the four of us sit at our usual table.

"So what do you guys think about the new customers?" Mara asks, drinking a cup of hot chocolate.

"I think the boy is sorta cute," I comment, watching for Fabian's reaction and to my dismay he barely even looks up.

"Same here," Mara agrees, "But I've never actually met him."

"I have," Patricia pipes in, throwing a glare in his direction, "He's a jerk, period."

"Is he really that bad, or just another human being whose very presence annoys you?" Fabian raises his eyebrows doubtfully.

"No really, he is just so full of himself," she groans, "I can't stand him."

"Maybe you should give him another try," Mara suggests wisely, "First impressions aren't always the best judge of character."

But Patricia just shakes her head, "I literally can't even stand to be around him."

Mara sighs, "Well the girl is really nice."

Fabian slightly perks up and smiles, "Her name is Nina and she's into books."

Is he blushing? Does he like her?

"Oh," I say meekly, "You two have met?"

"Sure have," he grins, glancing over to her, "She really likes Harry Potter, isn't that cool?"

"So cool," I mumble.

"I think we should invite them to sit with us," he adds hopefully, "Add to our little group of friends, you know?"

Patricia and I look back to the Americans, the girl is intently reading her book and the boy is jamming out the music. The thought of them sitting with us is a horrific one at this point.

"No!" we both cry at the same time and the other two look at us oddly.

"Why not?" Mara inquires, eyeing us suspiciously.

I give Patricia a pleading look and she moans, finally giving in.

"I don't like Americans," she crosses her arms defiantly.

"That's so prejudiced," Fabian scoffs.

"I don't care," she huffed, chin held high and proud.

"Patricia!" Mara scolds, "That's not very nice, I'm sure they're lovely people."

"They can sit with us when that American idiot says something nice to me."

"I bet I can get him to," Fabian says, surprisingly us by taking the challenge. Oh no. He does like Nina, no wonder he would bet against Patricia on something like this!

"You're on!" Patricia cries, shaking his hand, "If he doesn't then they can't sit with us and _you _have to stand up in front of the whole store, wearing your underwear outside your pants, announcing that you're a girlfriendless nerd and that I am the smartest person in the world."

Fabian is hesitant at first, but then grins mischievously, "Deal. If I _win_, then _you _have to read the first Harry Potter book and stand up in front of the entire shop, announcing that you are wrong because Harry Potter is the best book in the entire world, whilst wearing a Gryffindor scarf and holding a wand."

Patricia plays it cool and grins back, "It's a deal, Rutter."

I nudge Patricia under the table (Ouch! What was that for?), grimacing at her horrible plan, of course Fabian is going to win!

Mara checks her watch and exclaims, "Our shift is going to start soon, talk to you guys later!" she and Fabian both stand up and quickly head for their counter.

"You better win the bet," I grumble to Patricia, gathering up my food.

"Don't worry," she assures me, "I will make him hate me so much that he will not be physically able to say anything even remotely nice about me."

"I hope so, or Fabian is going to be with that Nina girl all the time!"

"Well you have to admit, that considering their similar interests they're probably pretty good for-" Patricia notices my frown and quickly adds, "I, uh, I mean they probably don't even like each other."

* * *

**Nina's PoV**

"We better hope so."

"Can we go now?"

"One more chapter!"

"Niiiiinnnnaaaaaa!"

"Just let me finish this page!"

"Hurry, I want to take a nap!" he yawns dramatically and I roll my eyes, hardly understanding how he doesn't appreciate books as much as I do.

"Patience is a virtue."

"Not wasting my precious time is a virtue," Eddie retorts.

"I'm done," I tell him after a minute or so, "We can go now."

"Hooray!" he really jumps out of his seat, "We haven't even unpacked yet either."

Just before we exit I hear my name being called and turn around to see Fabian walking towards us.

"What's up?" I ask, smiling.

"Just wanted to say that I hope you liked the book."

I blush, hoping he was going to say something else, "I've read it before but it gets better every time."

"Very true," he grins at me, blue eyes twinkling, "Are you coming back tomorrow?"

"No," Eddie replies firmly as I excitedly say, "Of course!"

Biting his lip, Fabian gives me a confused expression.

"We'll definitely be coming back tomorrow," I clarify and his expressions softens into one of delight.

"Oh good, well," he blushes, "See you then."

"Goodbye!" Eddie says for me, nearly dragging me out the door.

"What was that for?" I demand, shoving him back and sulkily make my way to the car.

"I could tell you two were going to have some long and mushy goodbye," he turns the key, ignoring my furious glares.

"You had no right," I mutter unhappily.

"As your _older _brother…"

"By a minute!"

"Still makes me older," he sneers, "But either way as your older brother I must protect you from women seeking hooligans like him."

"_You're _a women seeking hooligan!"

"Indeed," he nods his head, grinning, "Glad you understand. But that makes it so I can easily spot another women seeking hooligan."

I sigh, extremely frustrated, "Just drive me home before I strangle you."

"I'd like to see you try," he scoffs.

"Don't tempt me," I warn, "For all you know, tonight you could wake up with a pillow over your head and me laughing manically over you."

"Sometimes you truly and deeply scare me, little sister," he mockingly shudders.

So we drive away from the coffee shop, both knowing that we'll be back tomorrow. Though Fabian's a reason for me to want to go back and Patricia's a reason for Eddie to stay away, it's actually a really nice little store. The kind that you're bound to make memories in, especially if you consider the brilliant people we've just met. What tomorrow brings is a mystery for now but I'm already excited to go back.


	2. Full of Surprises

**Joy's PoV**

Just as the sun peeks through the horizon, I shuffle into Rodenmaar's Reads and Trudy's Treats, Sweets, and Drinks. Mara and Fabian are resting against the counter, tiredly sipping away at their morning coffees.

I brightly greet Patricia as I pour coffee into a cup and grab a chocolate muffin, "Good morning!"

"Well isn't somebody just _full_ of sunshine today," she mumbles, yawning.

"I'm a girl with a plan," I smile, momentarily glancing at Fabian, "I'm going to show Fabes that we like the same things."

"You didn't actually take my advice seriously, did you?"

"Why are you so grumpy?"

"Those Americans will be back today," she groans, "I have to see that weasel's face again."

"You should be happy," I point out, "You get to make him hate you."

Patricia perks up slightly, "You're right," she adds a bit of cream to her coffee, "So what's your devious plan to get Fabian to like you?"

"We're going to talk about books," I declare happily, confident in my plan.

"And what books would those be?" she asks, scoffing.

"Fabian's favorite books, obviously," I roll my eyes at her ignorance, "You know, those Harry Potter ones?"

"Joy aren't you missing a very problematic detail?" she facepalms, "You _hate _Harry Potter!"

"Not today. Now wish me luck!" I grin, tossing my cup in the trash and heading towards the bookstore.

"Good luck," she mockingly salutes me, "Don't make a fool out of yourself!"

Laughing, I make my way to the bookstore, where Mara is nowhere to be found and Fabian's got his head buried in a book. The sight of him reading is endearing, so I hate to interrupt him but it's a part of the plan.

I snatch the book from him and he looks up, "Theory of Computational Intelligence?" I inquire, pointing at the book's cover, "Bit of light reading?"

"Joy, just because it doesn't have Robert Pattinson on the cover does not mean it's not worth reading!" he scolds.

Wrinkling my nose, I shake my head and he laughs.

"Actually," I bite my lip, hoping he can't tell I'm lying, "I found a new book to love, Harry Potter, and it's actually pretty good!"

"Really?" he beams, "That's great! Luckily you aren't as stubborn as Patricia. So what book are you on?"

"I'm on the uh, the fourth one," I'm pretty sure there are at least four, if not I'm doomed.

More interested in the conversation, he closes his book and leans closer to me, "That one is pretty good. Who's your favorite character?"

"Harry Potter of course!" I exclaim, knowing that I can't go wrong with this answer.

"Odd," he tilts his head slightly, but then to my relief smiles, "Despite the fact that he's the main character you don't hear a lot of people who think Harry is their favorite."

"I know, I can't even believe it!"

"But the main character is only a small part of a book, it's just that the rest of the characters, settings, and such make it a great book!"

"Definitely."

"I think my favorite is probably Sirius Black…" he ponders for a moment, "Maybe Luna Lovegood."

"They're not too bad," I shrug, thinking those names sound somewhat familiar. Though Harry Potter is pretty popular around here I never really got into them, didn't even see the movies!

The sound of the front door's jingling bell distracts us from our conversation and we both look up to see who's there. I hope that it's not that American girl, she would completely ruin our moment. But to our surprise it's a different girl with long blonde hair, hanging down in loose curls. She's actually quite pretty, dressed in very fashionable clothes and I love how her hair is styled.

"She must be new," Fabian comments absentmindedly, returning to his book.

"She's quite pretty isn't she?" I examine him closely, waiting for some kind of reaction.

He shrugs indifferently, clearly preoccupied with the book, "Sure, I guess."

I can't help but beam at him, we're not even dating so I hate to be so rude about every other girl around him. But I just like him so much, I can't help it. The burning feeling of wanting him to be mine blazes in every part of my body. Why must he be so cute and sweet? Why must I like him so much when he hardly shows any interest? These are the thoughts that run through my mind every day, but despite them I continue to wish we could be together, because that's what love is.

"Where's Mara?" I inquire, struggling to keep the conversation up.

"Victor needed her help with cataloging some of the new books coming in," he replies, barely looking at me.

"Ah. Well I better get going, Fabes," I mutter, using the nickname I call him, saying it with certain kind of softness that I save only for him.

At least he looks up from the book and into my eyes, "See you later Joy."

After one look from those blue eyes I nearly skip back to the sweets counter, where Patricia is about to take the blonde's order. Patricia looks rather cross right now so I take over for her.

"What would you like?"

"Just a coffee."

"Cream or-"

"Black," she answers and though I'm a bit taken back by the abruptness, I still am rather impressed with it.

"Alright." I jot down her order, "Anything else?"

She looks down at the treats beneath the glass, her expression full of longing.

"I probably shouldn't…" she trails off, averting her gaze from the baked goods.

"Oh you might as well, it won't hurt you," I assure her, but she self consciously examines her thighs, "Go on, reward yourself. You look fine!"

She relaxes and smiles slightly, "Well…if you insist. I'll have a cinnamon roll."

"Good choice," I return her smile, "What name should I put on the cup?"

"Amber."

"Alright then. By the way Amber I love your clothes."

"Thanks," she flashes me one more grateful smile before finding a place to sit.

Patricia gives me a bewildered look, "What was all that about?"

"I dunno, I'm just in a good mood," I reply, grabbing Amber's cinnamon roll carefully with a napkin.

"Does it have anything to do with," she pours the coffee into a cup, rolling her eyes, "Oh what was his name again? I nearly forgot…oh yeah! The one you always talk about, Fabian."

"Why yes it does," I giggle, taking the cup from her, "He thinks that I like Harry Potter."

Patricia groans, slapping a hand to her forehead, "Why did you lie about that, Joy? All these lies are going to add up and you won't like the outcome."

"He'll never find out!" I protest, "I'm going to look it up on Wikipedia."

"That's not going to work, he's going to figure it out eventually."

But I just shake my head, "I'll be careful." She gives me a disappointed look but I brush it off, walking to where Amber is sitting to give her the food.

"Here you go," I hand her the steaming cup of coffee and cinnamon roll. Amber thanks me and we both look up as the door jingles again.

In walk the two Americans, cheeks flushed from the wintry day and wiping the snowflake flurries off their clothes. I notice Fabian and Mara give Nina cheerful smiles and Patricia gives Eddie a scowl.

I sigh, it's going to be a long day.

* * *

**Eddie's PoV**

Once again we're at this stupid coffee place, due to Nina's severe love for books, coffee, and British people. I own the car so it means I'm stuck with her.

The moment we walk she's grinning with her nerd buddies like they've known each other forever. I practically have to drag her to the counter so we can order our food. Patricia is there, and if looks could kill I bet that glare of hers could kill me on the spot. Her brown haired friend is also frowning at Nina but I have no idea how she's managed to piss off some Brits, so I guess we are alike in some ways.

"May I take your order?" I suppress a laugh because each word is said through gritted teeth.

"A Firewhiskey for me and a Butterbeer for Nina," I reply, grinning triumphantly. Nina told me last night that Patricia complained that the only thing Americans knew about the UK was Harry Potter related. Naturally, I googled Harry Potter foods so I can order them just to piss her off.

"You're hilarious," she mutters, and I can't help but notice how the corners of her mouth turn slightly, as if she almost appreciates my dry sense of humor.

"Just another iced tea, Ariel," I smirk at the look on Patricia's face and Nina stomps on my foot, whispering harshly in my ear to be nicer.

"Ariel? That's juvenile," she scoffs, "You're no Prince Charming or anything, weasel."

"I thought the name was nice," I pretend to be offended, "But then you just went right on ahead demeaning me to an animal."

"I'd like a Frappuccino," Nina interrupts, "With extra of whipped cream."

"Anything else?"

"Actually I'll have-" I start to say, eyeing the chocolate chip cookies.

"No."

I cannot believe this girl, so I just throw my hands up in the air without saying a word and pay for the drinks.

Nina prods me with her finger playfully as we sit down, "You _like _her, don't you?"

"Do not!" I cry, it is unbelievable that she is so involved in this, "Did you just see what happened? I cannot stand her."

"Oh Eddie," she chides, "It's just like elementary school all over again, when girls and boys would make fun of each other because that was their way of telling someone they had a crush on them."

"You're a child," I retort, "She is the lovechild of Satan and Hitler, if you ask me."

"Sure," she grins mischievously but before I can say anything back the brown haired boy Nina was ogling at earlier sits down beside us, holding a coffee cup.

"I'm Fabian," he grabs my hand and shakes it furiously. What's with this kid?

"Eddie, Eddie Martin."

He nearly spits out the coffee he's drinking. What's so special about my name? Gosh I hate British people.

"Martin?" he sputters, "As in, you're Nina's brother?"

"Unfortunately," I scowl at Nina and she sticks her tongue out.

"Huh," he mutters, leaning back in his chair, "I never would have guessed."

"Nobody ever does," Nina comments, "All we've got in common is our eyes."

"Well they're very green and er, nice looking," the kid blushes. Oh, I get it now! I am so teasing Nina about this later.

"Thanks," Nina blushes in response. Oh disgusting, why am I even here? I'm going to be stuck between these mushy freaks if I don't get out of here soon.

"So I found a book that you might like to read, it's called…" the boy begins, and soon the two are intently discussing books. I'd rather be talking to the Yacker than listen to these two talk about books, and that's saying something!

"They're talking to each other _again_!" Joy complains.

"People do that sometimes," I shrug, preparing that jerk's iced tea.

"But these are people that I specifically don't want to talk to each other!"

"Nothing you can really do about it."

She sighed, "How's making Eddie hate you going so far?"

"Pretty good, I just need a new plan of attack. Something that will make him never want to even look me in the eye!"

"Good luck with that," she grumbles, "_I _need a way of either making Fabian not like Nina or like me."

"Too bad we can't do both at the same time," I shake my head mournfully, "Two birds with one stone, yeah? Or in our case two Americans with one stone."

"That's it!" Joy exclaims, "I've got an idea!"

"Alright, what is it?"

"You "accidentally"," she makes quotation marks in the air with her fingers, "Spill iced tea all over Eddie and Nina, yeah?"

"Now you're talking," I rub my hands together, "But how exactly will that help you?"

"Well it doesn't necessarily solve my problems but," she grins mischievously, "It will get iced tea all over her clothes!"

"You're truly evil."

"I like to think so," she smiles proudly then shoves me, "Now go on, you've got some accidental spilling to do!"

"It's always a good day when I get to dump liquid on Americans," I pour his iced coffee into a cup and make my way over to their table,

As I'm doing this, I overhear Fabian saying my name. He's going to try to make that slimeball compliment me, now's my chance! Rushing towards them, I make sure my foot snags on a chair leg and after a dramatic noise of surprise, the iced tea comes flying down all over Nina and Eddie. While I'm getting up, I hide my gleeful smile and pretend to be sorry.

"Oh my goodness," I cover my hand with my mouth, "I'm so sorry!"

Eddie groans, gazing down at the horrendous amount of iced coffee staining his shirt.

Fabian, who's realized my plan, rolls his eyes, "_Classy_, Patricia."

"It was accident!"

"My clothes are literally shrinking to my body as we speak," Nina grumbles.

My boss, Victor comes out from his office because of all of the commotion, "Who is making a ruckus?" he demands, "And Mister Rutter," he jabs his finger at Fabian, "Why are you not _working_?" Fabian mumbled that he is sorry and quickly dashes back behind the desk with Mara.

"It's just that," I pick up the empty cup from off the floor, "these _silly _customers have spilled their drinks everywhere."

"Silly customers?" Eddie's cries of outrage nearly make me burst into laughter, "It was your _stupid _employee that made this mess!"

But Victor holds his hands up to quiet us, "I don't want to hear it! I don't care who made the mess but want somebody to _clean it up!" _He shouts angrily, pointing his finger at Eddie and me.

"But-" Eddie protests.

"You two, clean it up!" he commands, departing back to his office, I presume to talk to his stuffed raven, Corbiere. We're all convinced that he may possibly love it, given the way he strokes it.

"Nice going Yacker," he mumbles and I happily hand him a rag, hoping he can clearly see the smile on my face. After the mess is cleaned up he tosses the rag at me, expression fuming.

"See you guys later," I wave and give the two a cheeky smile. Nina and Eddie both glare at me and I nearly giggle because of the apparent stains forming on their clothes.

When I get back to the counter, Joy and I high five. I feel confident that I'll win the bet now, and I don't even feel the least bit sorry, he totally deserves it.

Right?

* * *

**Mara's PoV**

Fabian was making a reading list for Nina, running up and down the shelves, occasionally exclaiming excitedly when he found a book.

He must _really _like Nina.

It's really lucky that the Eddie boy is just her brother, otherwise I would have felt so bad for Fabian. But still, in the end, I think they will get together either way. They are just so right for each other. I can tell by the way he talks about her, even though they've barely just met. Every chance he gets he talks with her and in between all those times he will just stare longingly at her.

In all honesty, I am just really happy for him.

For the third time today, the door bell jingles, signaling the entrance of a customer, loads of new people are coming here, which is good news! I recognize the face, it's Mick Campbell, Fabian's best friend. He's bouncing a football, still in his dirty uniform. With his ruffled hair and charm everybody can't help but find him cute.

Well.

By everybody I mean me.

I'm not usually one for having silly crushes on boys I can't have.

But Mick is…_different._

I guess everybody says that but I feel it, I really do!

He kicks the ball into his hands and races over to meet Fabian. The other boy grins when he sees his friend coming in.

"How was practice?" Fabian asks, fist bumping Mick, "Score any goals?"

"You know it!" Mick grins, then notices the rest of us, "Hey Mars," he smiles at me and my heart gives a slight jolt when he uses my nickname.

"Hi Mick."

Mick winks at Joy and Patricia, "What's up girls?"

"Get dirt on the tile and you're dead," Patricia growls, scanning his filthy clothes up and down, "Because it's my job to clean it up."

"So welcoming," Mick laughs, "And you Joy, no death threats today?"

"Not today," she smiles, wiping the coffee maker with a wet rag, "Fancy a cuppa?"

"Nah," he shakes his head, "All I want is a water, I'm quenched."

"No problem," Joy fills up a glass with water and brings it over to him.

"Joy to the world…my water has come!" Mick sings loudly and we all laugh as he gulps it down.

"I'm surprised you don't want to eat every treat Trudy has made," Joy takes the glass back, "Feeling ill?"

"Just not hungry," he replies and we all gasp.

"Mick? Not hungry?" I ask, "Who are you and what have you done with Mick?"

"A person can be not hungry sometimes," he starts to say but just shakes his head, "Oh I give up. Can I have a chocolate chip cookie please?"

"Coming right up," Joy giggles and heads back to the sweet shop to make a fresh batch of cookies.

"You're the best!" he shouts to her and turns back to Fabian and I, "So what's new?"

"We have some Americans who regularly come now," I say and point to Fabian, "Fabian likes the girl, Nina."

"That's my boy!" Mick laughs and grabs Fabian in a headlock, messing up his hair, "Never thought this day would come!"

"Let me go!" Fabian pushes Mick away from him, blushing and fixing his hair, "I just happen to think that she is nice."

"That's an understatement," I laugh, "And he thinks she's pretty, sweet, and amazing."

"Then why don't you ask her out?" Mick presses, "Since no one wouldn't fall for you I'm going to assume that she likes you back, right?"

I nod, "I was trying to get him to ask her on a date."

"We've only just met!" Fabian cries, "Soon you'll be prompting me to propose to her!"

"Don't be so silly," I shake my head, "That's next week!"

Mick and I both grin at each other and Fabian just mutters, "I do not know when my love life started becoming so interesting."

"Well that would have to be when-" Mick loses his train of thought and says breathlessly after a few moments, "Oh."

Upon seeing our confused expressions he explains, "That blonde girl over there," he points to one of the customers slyly, trying not to be obvious.

"Joy said her name was Amber," I peer curiously at him, does he like her?

"_Amber_," he smiles, toying with her name like it's one of his footballs, "She's beautiful."

I feel my heart plummet down my chest. Oh. So this is how Fabian felt when he thought Nina and Eddie were together.

It's not like I have ever announced my love for Mick, nor will I ever.

It's just that…I want it to be me that he talks that way about.

But I'm just shy Mara, who reads books and isn't pretty.

Because who would ever fall for someone like me? Certainly not Mick.

"Amber's her name?" Fabian begins to form a small smile, "Maybe I could introduce you two."

"That would be great," Mick sighed, still watching Amber, who's reading a magazine, flipping through the pages with great pleasure, twirling a lock of that impossibly long blonde hair.

The only love I really know about is in books, but right now I can feel the aching of my chest as I see Mick staring longingly Amber, because I've stared at him like that. I've known Mick for as long as I've known Fabian. He goes to our university and is on the school's football team. Since I always had classes with Fabian and we were in same apartment complex, I would always see Mick hanging around Fabian. So eventually he introduced me and we became pretty good friends.

"Mars? Your head's in the clouds," Mick nudges me, grinning, "So do you think I'll have a chance with this Amber girl?"

I smile, hoping he won't notice how forced it is, "Any girl would be lucky to have you."

* * *

**Nina's PoV**

The second day at this coffee shop has certainly been odd. But for now all is quiet and I'm just reading my book, occasionally sneaking a glance at Fabian. I don't think he realizes how cute he is sometimes, and smile whenever I catch him absorbed in a book or proudly dusting a shelf. For now it's just me at a table because after Patricia spilled iced tea all over us (what was that about?) he was pissed, so he took of both of our shirts and took them to a dry cleaner. Luckily I brought a jacket.

This blonde girl keeps looking at me. If I'm fast enough, I can peer over my book and catch her looking intently at me, and then she quickly looks away. Like most people in here I've never seen her before but does she know me? She's very pretty, I have to admit, adorable clothes and long hair that reminds me of Rapunzel.

Just as I'm about to confront her she picks up her belongings and begins walking over to me.

"I'm Amber," she smiles kindly at me and I relax, maybe she's not all that bad.

"I'm Nina. Why were you looking at me?" I question as she sits down in the chair across from me, examining her bright pink nails.

"It's just that, well," she shakes her head, making her curls bob back and forth, "I'm a student at the nearby university, I want to be a fashion designer someday."

I nod, recalling driving past a beauty school when we first arrived, "I can tell by your clothes that you'll do well in that. But what does that have to do with you looking at me?"

"We were recently assigned a new project," Amber explains, "To have someone model the clothes we designed for our last unit. And I just thought that you would perfect for that job."

"Me?" I stammer, "I'm no model. Just an average looking girl with frizzy hair," I insecurely inspect a piece of my hair, it's still the same shade of dull brown.

"That's what straighteners and curlers are for!" she cries, looking very sincere, "But we can work around that. Your eyes are beautiful, your skin is practically flawless, and your figure is great."

"Wow," I look down at the ground, not wanting to seem vain from receiving all these comments, "Thanks."

"It's the truth!" she grins at me and I can't help but return one. I really like this Amber girl, but then who wouldn't love a person who makes you feel good about yourself? I feel that we're going to become fast friends.

We talk for a while about this, that, and everything in between like school, if I miss America, what it's like to be in an entirely different country, Patricia dumping iced tea on us, having a twin brother, having no siblings, her dreams of being a fashion designer, my odd love for Egyptian history, and last of all…boys.

"So are there any cute boys around here?" she tilts her chin up, scoping out the place for anyone.

"Well," I blush, "There is this one boy."

"Who?" she demands, squealing excitedly and I already know I've made a mistake.

"No one," I lie.

"Tell me!"

"You aren't allowed to tell anyone!" I command, sternly pointing at her, "Promise?"

"I swear to it," she replies solemnly, "Cross my heart and hope to die." It feels like I'm a kid again, sharing secrets with my new best friend on the playground.

"See that boy over there?" I inconspicuously point to Fabian, "His name is Fabian."

"Ah," she eyes him, scrutinizing his every feature, "He _is _pretty cute. I swear I've seen this kid before…"

I sigh dreamily, "It's just that he likes books, is intelligent, and unbelievably cute."

"Aw," she clasps her hands together, leaning her head to the side and looking at me excitedly, "You two are meant for each other, I just _know _it."

"You just know it?" I laugh, still resisting the urge to glance over at Fabian, "What are you, some type of dating guru?"

"Fashion student by day, dating guru by night," she giggles, "I'm basically a superhero."

"I'll never reveal your secret identity," I soberly assure her, "Your secret is safe with me."

"Good. But will you trust me?"

"Yes?" I say hesitantly, staring at her quizzically.

"FABIAN!" she shouts and he looks up, so I hastily cover her mouth with my hand.

"_Amber_!" I hiss, flushing what I know to be a bright shade of red, "What are you doing?"

She uncovers my hand from her mouth, "What? You two are obviously meant for each other, why not skip all the awkward flirting and get right to the kissing?"

"That's not how things work!" I protest, watching in horror as Fabian makes his way toward us, "Don't you dare say a thing!"

She bites her lip, smile as sly as a fox and I'm unsure of how I'm going to going to keep her quiet.

Fabian approaches us, taking a seat next to me, "Hi Nina. Who's this?"

"I'm Amber," she says before I can introduce her, oh gosh she is going to tell him that I like him, and once again there's that feeling of being in school with your best friend when your crush walked by and you would have to beg her not to say a word.

"I'm Fabian. Are you a friend of Nina's?"

"We've been friends for about an hour now," she smiles brightly and I'm surprised, she already considers me a friend?

"Did one of you call my name?" he inquires, "Thought I heard something and decided I might as well come over, seeing as it's my break."

"Yes," Amber replies while I say, "No."

He blinks, then shakes his head, laughing at our oddness, "Well either way I needed to talk to Amber."

Amber? Why does he need to talk to her? They've never even met before!

"And what do you need to talk to me about?"

He glances back and forth, as if to make sure no one's listening in and leans in closer to her, "I've got a _friend_ who's interested in taking you on a date."

Oh no. What if this is one of those scenarios where somebody asks a hypothetical question about their supposed "friend" and it is actually them? Does Fabian like Amber?

"Really?" Amber arches her eyebrow, "Because I was just about to say the _exact same thing_."

* * *

**Mara's PoV**

"Patricia…can I tell you something?"

"No. But you're going to anyways so go on."

"I...well. It's just that…I seem to…have found myself…I….I _really_ like Mick," I tell her, stuttering over every word.

I expect her to spit out whatever she's drinking and gasp but she just rolls her eyes, "That's nice, now can I go back to work? I'm kind of busy."

"Patricia!" I cry, "We're supposed to be friends. I need boy advice!"

"Why don't you ask Joy what to do?" she groans.

"Please just help me!" I plead, not even sure why I chose to talk to her. I guess I thought she'd be the least judging, but in all honesty she just doesn't really care.

"What's the problem then?" she sighs, clearly seeing my desperation if I'm coming to her for love advice.

"He likes Amber," I say softly, and with a pang in my heart remember our conversation from earlier. After that he left, making Fabian promise to try to get him a date with Amber. Even now, I see Fabian talking to Nina and Amber, probably asking her out for Mick. Wait why is Nina with Amber? Never mind that's beside the point!

"I can see why, Amber's really pretty," Patricia remarks.

"Patricia!"

"Sorry!" she quickly attempts to redeem herself, "I mean why would he ever like her?"

"Your lying is awful," I mumble, regretting my decision to even talk to her.

"I'm just not sure what you want from me!"

"What should I do?" I ask hopelessly, "I just want Mick to like me, see me more than just a friend."

She ponders this for a moment then snaps her fingers, "I've got it! You just need to make him notice you. Start wearing makeup, straighten your hair for a change, wear sexier clothes!"

"That's not the only thing boys want-" Patricia gives me a dubious look, "Well that is what boys _usually want_ but still! I'm not going to act like I'm someone else to impress him."

"What's so great about Mick anyways. I mean he's cute and all but in the end all I see is a stupid jock."

"He's sweet and sensitive!" I protest.

"Mick? Sweet and sensitive? Keep on dreaming," she scoffs.

"You just don't understand," I grumble, feeling rather cross with today's events.

Patricia groans, "You're right. I _do not _understand. I especially don't understand why people have to go about falling in love with people that are exactly wrong for them. First Joy, now you. Who's next? Well I can at least assure you it will _not _be me."

* * *

**Fabian's PoV**

After Amber's comment we all just sort of sat there in awkward silence, Nina and I blushing furiously while Amber watched us carefully. I barely even know this girl and she's already set out to take over my love life, just like Mick and Mara!

To my great relief Nina's brother comes back in the store with two shirts in hand.

"Waiting for the laundry to be done is one of the most boring things I've ever experienced," he moans, tossing a now clean shirt to Nina, "I don't know how Gran does it."

Nina laughs and unzips her jacket, revealing a green tank top and tanned skin. As she pulls off her jacket the back of her tank top lifts slightly, revealing a possible tattoo on the small of her back. I only catch a glimpse but it looks to me like an eye. I'm trying not to look but I can't help it, I'm mesmerized by her beauty as she slowly slides her shirt back on.

Eddie also rolls himself out of his sweatshirt and everyone can clearly see his defined muscles. I feel my stomach, getting an unfortunate confirmation that strength wise I'm nothing special. No fat on my stomach but just a pale belly without a trace of significant muscle.

But I swear to you Patricia stares at Eddie shirtless for longer than anyone else.

Finally the two Americans both have their shirts on and Eddie sits down in a chair and finally notices Amber and me.

"Oh. When did you two get here?"

"We've been here the entire time," Amber points out, obviously annoyed, "You're Nina's twin, Eddie?"

"Indeed, Blondie."

A horrifying thought flashes through my mind, I've completely forgotten about the bet! I'm going to have to think of something quick before I'm stuck humiliating myself in front of everyone tomorrow.

"So Eddie," I say loudly and he looks up, "What do you think of Patricia?"

He lets out a short laugh, "Patricia? Let's just say she's quite possibly the _worst person I've ever met_."

"You don't mean that," I laugh nervously.

"Oh yes I do," he leans back in his chair and sets his feet on the table, "I've never met a more annoying, despicable, or loud human being in my life."

"Oh come on," I scoff and then tell him in a low voice, "To be honest, I think Patricia likes you."

"Ha!" he shakes his head, "Usually when someone likes another person, they are kind to them and don't dump iced tea all over them!"

"That's just Patricia's way of showing that she likes you!" I object, "She's a little bit backwards but don't deny that you like it."

His superiority flickers, and I can tell I'm getting to him, "Patricia is cute and she likes you. What more could you want?"

I notice that Nina's expression falls when I say this and I hope that she doesn't take this the wrong way, I'm only saying these things to win the bet!

"Well…" he looks over at Patricia and turns back to me, "I guess you're right."

I grin, "Now you're getting it. Oh go on, I _bet _if you said something nice to her she'll open up."

"You really think so?" I've got him right where I want him!

"Of course!" I urge him, "Just one little compliment and she's hooked on you!"

The blonde girl, Amber is eyeing me suspiciously, "And have you known this Patricia girl long enough to know these sorts of things about her?"

"I've known her for a few months or so," I say defensively, "Trust me, this is how Patricia works."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"You better be right," he abruptly stands up, "Because here I go."

I'm actually going to win the bet! Patricia's going to have to demean herself in front of the entire shop and better yet I'll get to sit with Nina tomorrow during lunch break.

Eddie cracks his knuckles, pushing in his chair and ignoring Nina's uncertain expression. Then he makes his way to the front desk of the bakery, where Patricia and Joy are talking. They book look up and see him, Joy nudging Patricia's side and Patricia crossing her arms at Eddie.

"What do you want, weasel?"

"I'm going to be mature about this," he sighs, twiddling his thumbs, "I have something to say to you."

"Yeah? Go on," Patricia actually looks worried.

"I just wanted to say that you're…" he begins, taking a deep breath, "A yacking, awful, annoying, devilish, jerk of a girl that has no other hobbies than being rude to everyone around her," he smirks.

It's official, I have most definitely lost the bet. Patricia is going to be gloating for weeks now, and tomorrow I'll be in my underwear telling everyone that I'm a girlfriendless nerd.

Patricia just sits there, gaping with her mouth wide open. For a moment she is utterly speechless but she glares at Eddie, the sort of glare that could bring lightning down from the skies right that instant and kill him, "You little _slimeball_," every word is slow and enunciated, teeth grit and eyes full of pure rage, "You are the most _despicable_ human being I have ever met. Do not talk to me about being rude, you are the most vile and horrible boy that has ever existed," she's yelling now, "I do not every want to see your _repulsive_ face ever again," Patricia slams her fist in the table and I swear to you, the entire store jumped simultaneously, "_Get away _from me," she growls.

The grin is wiped off Eddie's face and for a moment he's stuttering, struggling to say anything helpful at all but Patricia just glowered at him, so he just closes his mouth and cowers. Then she promptly storms off to the back of the store and Joy follows swiftly after her.

Everybody at the coffee shop was staring open mouthed at him, not sure if they felt sorry for him or thought that they deserved it. Eddie slowly walks back to the table where Nina, Amber, and I merely watch him, unable to speak.

"I'll be uh, back," he tells Nina slowly and mechanically.

"Okay," she says quietly, "I'll text you when I need a ride."

"Don't worry about that, you just drive yourself home when you want," he slides the keys out from his pocket and drops them harshly on the table, "I'm going on a walk."

"You'll just walk back to our apartment when you're done?"

"Yeah," he nods numbly, grabbing his coat and heading for the door.

The minute he left all the usual talking resumed. Nina, Amber, and I chatted quietly for a few minutes, not daring to mention the earlier incident. When my break was over I said goodbye to the girls and headed back to work, where Mara was waiting for me.

"Wow."

"Wow," I repeat.

"It's safe to say you lost the bet?" she asks tentatively.

"No doubt about that," I mumble, staring at Nina regretfully.

* * *

**Patricia's PoV**

"That cockroach!" I shout, "That nerve of that American!"

"I thought you wanted to win the bet?" she asks, slightly puzzled but still warily watching me.

"He's still a cockroach!"

Joy shrugs, but then nods and we go back to work. And that's the last we talk of Eddie or the bet. I'm pleased that I won but at the same time I didn't appreciate what he had to say. All of the fighting has made me feel exhausted, so the rest of the day I go about serving coffee and treats sluggishly. I don't really talk to Joy about much, and at this point I don't want to her about her endeavors with Fabian. When lunch break comes around none of us really have anything to say to each other, so we just eat in silence. The day goes by quickly and once it's over I say goodbye to everyone and slip on my coat.

When I get outside I hear my name being called, so I whip around and see _him_.

Eddie is sitting on a bench, gesturing for me to join him.

"I am _not _talking to you," I hiss.

"Please," he begs and walks to me, "Just hear me out."

"No," I say firmly, scowling at him and turning to leave again.

"Patricia," he says softly, placing his hand on my shoulder, "I wanted to say that I'm sorry."

Once again I turn to stare at him, and his green eyes look miserable. No, I'm not going to talk to this jerk! He doesn't _deserve _to talk to me. But his big, heartbreaking eyes remind me of a puppy dog so I groan, hating myself for even talking to him.

"What? What do you so desparately need to tell me? Want to insult me or call me names? Go on, do it!" I challenge.

"I told you, I'm sorry!"

"I don't believe you."

He sighs, "Please just sit down and talk to me, and I promise I won't be a jerk."

I roll my eyes, "I can't believe I'm doing this," we sit down on the bench together, and I make sure I'm stiff and emotionless.

"What I did was wrong and disgusting. It's just that…" a grin stretches across his face, "I love watching your reactions."

What?

He continues, "You're pretty awesome to tease, ya know? Fighting with you is," he stops, searching for just the right word, "Fun."

"Fun?" I repeat, dumbfounded.

"Yeah," he's still smilingly stupidly at me, "I like the name calling and the insulting."

"Well um," I stammer, "I don't know what-"

"You like it too, don't you?" he accuses, "Somewhere deep in your yacking heart you _like _all the fighting we do."

"You're making no sense."

"Yes I am!" he cries, "We've only known each other for two days but we're already fighting like an old married couple."

"I don't just like fighting with you," he continues, leaning closer to me on the bench, "I _like _you. You're pretty, witty, and testing. We've only just met but I think we're right for each other."

Wait, what? Did he actually compliment me?

Then he presses his lips against me, and I'm too surprised to react. It's passionate and full of fury, and I don't know what to do because I don't even know this boy and suddenly we're kissing.

So I jerk away from him and my instant reaction is to slap him.

"What was that for?" he asks, astonished and rubbing his cheek, where a red mark is forming.

"Don't ever do that again," I warn and hastily stand up, practically running away from him, confused about how I just kissed a boy I barely even know.


	3. Bitter Cup

**Patricia's PoV**

Eddie Martin is probably the most arrogant, conceited, jerk I've ever met.

But there's something about that sneering face that makes me want to push him up against a wall and kiss him until he's dry.

It's problematic.

Now I know I've only known the guy for two days but he really gets to me. I mean, I've spent my whole life not really being affected by guys, but he's different. He's managed to get a response from me quicker than any guy I've ever known!

So these are the thoughts that I ponder over as I hover near the phone, wondering what I should do. Should I call Fabian and tell him that he's won the bet or keep the information to myself? I don't want to see his gloating face tomorrow at work but to be honest, I'm worried that I'll slip up and look like a sore loser.

Finally, after an hour of staring guilty at my mobile, I pick it up and punch in Fabian's number.

Fabian and I don't talk much, so I expect it to be severely uncomfortable.

"Hello?"

I clear my throat, trying to act as normal as possible, "Fabian, it's me Patricia."

"Patricia? Er not to sound rude or anything, but why are you calling me so late?"

"I just wanted to say that…Eddie…Eddie," I feel like I've swallowed my tongue, "Eddie said…"

"I didn't catch that."

"Eddie complimented me," I say quickly.

"_Oh_," he sounds surprised, "Really?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" I automatically snap, "Do you find it strange that somebody could be nice to me? Thanks a lot, Rutter."

"I didn't mean it like that! I just…didn't expect Eddie to be nice to you, or to anyone for that matter."

_Nice save, Fabian_, I think angrily.

"So..." he drawls out as I remain silent, "Is that all you wanted to tell me?"

"Yup," then I quickly remember and groan, "No, wait a minute. I'm uh, gonna need that first Harry Potter book."

"Ah," I can tell that he was expecting me to tell him what happened. As if! "Do you want me to bring it over or do you just want to read it from the bookstore?"

"Just bring it over," I mumble, "So I can get it over with."

"I'll be over soon. Did he say-"

"Not a word," I threaten.

"I was just going to ask if-"

I press end call.

My next call is not so awkward, but I'm dreading it just as much.

"Joy?"

"Patricia!" she replies eagerly, and I can hear a voice in the background, "You _have _to come over! M-"'

"I've got something important to tell you," I mutter, lowering my voice despite the fact that my apartment is empty, "Eddie _kissed _me."

"_What?!_" she cries, "You're joking! Tell me you're joking."

"I wish I was," I sigh dramatically, "And he called me pretty. Who does he think he is?"

"Oh my gosh, oh my gosh! This is _crazy_, Patricia. You found a guy who isn't afraid to like you!" Why did I even tell her? She's never going to let me live this down.

"I haven't found anyone," I retort crossly, "And besides, don't tell anybody at work about it! You're lucky I even told you!"

She laughs, "A, I'm your best friend, you were going to tell me anyway. B, you're really bad at lying to me. C, telling everyone at work would be mean."

"Yeah, yeah," I mumble, "Can you come over soon? I just need to talk to someone about this."

"Of course," and like the amazing person she is, I hear her say goodbye to someone and a door shutting, which means she's already leaving, "See you soon?"

"See you soon," and I hang up.

I wait for the sound of the doorbell, restlessly fidgeting with the radio, but it's certainly not helpful. One song is about two people who are in love but they keep denying it, another is about a girl who misses her boyfriend, and for the grand finale we've got a song about two people who have trouble distinguishing between feelings of love and feelings of hate. Groaning inwardly, I turn it off and curse the universe for allowing mediocre pop stars to record these sappy songs.

So I'm reduced to sitting on the couch, anxiously tapping my fingers and hating myself for being in this state. Finally there's that annoying chime of my doorbell and I jump up, racing to the front door. Breathlessly, I open it and to my surprise and disappointment it's Fabian instead of Joy.

"Oh, hey," I mutter, willing myself not to look at him directly, "Come on in."

He hesitantly takes a step in, over viewing my very plain apartment. It's composed of a bed, dirty windows, frayed curtains, a furiously bleached bathroom, an ugly plaid couch, an old tv, and a relatively small kitchen.

"This is, er…nice," he remarks, gulping at the rusty pot of old ramen noodles on the countertop.

"Don't lie to me," I sigh tiredly, "It's all I can afford."

Blushing, he walks further in and I almost feel bad for snapping him, but at the moment there are more important things on my mind.

I gesture for him to sit on the couch and we do, sitting quite a distance apart.

"Here you go," he fumbles around in his messenger bag until he pulls out a tattered copy of the first Harry Potter book, "It's a fantastic read, I swear."

Yanking it from his hands, I examine the cover and run my fingers along the worn edges, "Doubt it."

Before he can reply, the doorbell rings again and I dash away from our awkward conversation to answer it.

Joy stands in the entryway, cheeks red and hair ruffled up.

"Patricia let me in, it's freezing outside-" she abruptly stops when she sees Fabian.

He politely waves and she turns to me, smiling, but underneath I know that she's fuming, "What's he doing here?"

"Giving me that awful book I'm forced to read," I grumble.

"Ah," her eyes widen at the sight of the book, "I mean, yes! Harry Potter and…yeah! You will love it!"

Fabian smiles hopefully, "See? If Joy likes it then so should you!"

"Not enough incentive, sorry," I stare at Joy, who seems perfectly content despite the fact that she's lying through her teeth to Fabian.

"You could always have a better attitude," Fabian suggests, shrugging.

"You could always leave."

Joy shoots me a glare, "Aw, don't be so mean. Fabian doesn't have to leave!"

"No I, uh, better get going," he stands up, adjusting his sweater, brushing past us, "Happy reading, Patricia."

"Wait!" Joy calls out, dejectedly staring after him.

"Yes?" he stands in the entryway, hand on the doorknob.

"Maybe we could have a Harry Potter marathon sometime?"

He looks from her to me, mouth slightly open and looking quite nervous, "Er…maybe?" then he rushes out the door without another word.

Once he's left Joy buries her hands in her face, "That was pathetic."

I awkwardly pat her shoulder, hoping my tense gesture won't be viewed as unsympathetic, "It'd work out a lot better if you weren't lying to him. At this point, you're just digging yourself into a hole."

"I know, I know," she mutters, plopping herself down onto my couch, "I just can't stop. No matter how many times I tell myself he's not worth it, he'll smile at me or say something that makes me giggle, and I know that I'm sucked right back in. I wish I didn't like him, Patricia, I really do."

"I'm sorry, is there something I can do to make it better? I could ask him how he feels about you-"

"Don't worry about me. This is about you, not about me! Eddie kissed you and you like him, don't you?" Joy demands, the corners of her mouth tugging into a wide grin.

I groan, collapsing onto the couch next to her, burying my face in a pillow, "Why did he even have to come into the shop with his stupid, cute face?"

She massages my shoulders and it's clear that she's much better at consoling a lovesick friend, "It's okay, now tell me the rest. What did you do after he kissed you?"

"I uh, sort of slapped him," I mumble, avoiding her gaze.

"What?" she cries, "I thought you liked him?"

"I do! That's why I slapped him…"

"Patricia, you're not making any sense at all!" she moans, "Do you like him or do you not?"

"I like him! But…I just…it's hard to explain. I don't like admitting my feelings to people and I don't trust easily, so when I meet a guy like him, full of himself and so positive of his success with women, I want to make it clear that I'm untouchable, literally. But he didn't stop like most people would! He kept on pestering me and I somewhat admired that, so naturally I continued to fight. I didn't know that he would figure me out so quickly! So then when he kissed me…I was just so mad at him for being so sure that I would react positively."

"I thought you two hated each other?"

"Of course not! I just pretend to, we both do!"

"How does that even work?" she demands bewilderedly.

"Don't ask me to explain! That's just how it works, I guess."

"You guess? Patricia you are the most complicated person I've ever met! And so is Eddie, so apparently you two are _perfect _for each other!" she takes a deep breath and grabs my shoulders, "You really like this guy?"

Biting my lip, I nod guiltily, "It's stupid, I know. He gets under my skin and there's just something different about him, he's so unlike every other guy I've met. He's sarcastic like me, but in a…warmer way. I've always been so bitter about everything, and I can tell that he's bitter about some things, but he channels that into something positive. Do you get what I'm saying?"

Joy lets out a staccato laugh, "So he's like a happier, more likeable version of you?"

"Thanks, _bestie_," I snarl.

"Don't change the subject!" she scolds, "And you know what I mean."

"Okay fine, you're right. And I'm just…drawn towards him because of that. Joy, you know me, I've never been a touchy feely sort of person. You're the only person I can really open up to. And what I'm telling you now is that…I really like Eddie and I have no idea how to tell him. I'm so used to pushing people away, and you know why…" my voice trails off and I become wrapped up in my own thoughts.

It's true though, I've gone through my life so far without having very many real relationships. I learned from a young age that trust will be broken and love doesn't last. The greatest two examples of that were my parents. Don't jump to conclusions, they loved me and cared for me, as parents should, but I overheard the conversations and saw things that most kids were shielded from. It was easy to piece together what happened, through old pictures, hidden journals, love letters, and various stories they'd recount to me. They fell in love at a young age, and of course they had to be the cliché high school sweethearts. Young, married, and broke, they set off for college together, barely getting by through wealthy friends, understanding parents, and scholarships. With decent enough grades and certificates of graduation they managed to find a cheap, cramped house in Shoreham. My mum was an artist, now she was promising, but didn't have enough money for supplies. She sold her works by the beach and made a meager amount, but not enough to support her and my dad. Despite her intense love for painting she packed away her brushes and canvases for a life of odd jobs, working in shops, restaurants, grocery stores, and anywhere that had slightly reasonable hours and a decent pay. My dad, however, was a different story. He grew up with a wild tongue and a fierce stubbornness, one that often got him in trouble, but he found through his schooling that he was quite the debater. He loved speaking in front of people and had quite a few awards to show for it. So he started his own law firm and represented the grateful people of the small town. He had a surprising amount of success and won many cases. Thanks to his quick wits and skill of managing money, he acquired many partners that were eagerly willing to join his business. Life was starting to look up, and my mom became pregnant with my older brother Dylan. Dad convinced her that they had enough money for her to quit working so she retired to a domestic life. Once again her artistic soul burst again and she could be often found on the beach with her canvas, painting away and murmuring to her swollen belly. It was a peaceful life for a pregnant woman, the atmosphere of the town was calm and inviting, with the tranquil beach and the farmer's market filled with delicious foods to satisfy the always odd and never ending cravings of a hormonal woman. Dylan was born and the Williamson family was blessed by his presence. My family lived like this for five years, parenting their curious and brave son, all the while enjoying their long sought after endeavors. Mum kept on painting, growing in popularity with each passing day and my dad's law firm grew and grew. From what I know, Dylan was in one word, lovely. He was a blissful mix of my parents, bold, creative, and happy. But everything came crashing down when Dylan was diagnosed with leukemia. They picked up their belongings and immediately moved to Liverpool, where they could have access to better hospitals and with luck, better treatments. Mum sold all of her paintings and my dad hastily scrambled to gather all of their savings to put toward saving his little boy. But it was to no such lack, after a year of suffering, Dylan passed away, a mere ghost of what he used to be. My parents were devastated, how can you cope with the loss of a person you'd cared for and watched grow up for five years? You couldn't. The grief of losing a child like that is unspeakable and absolutely tragic. It slowly withers you away, watching your child go through unimaginable pain and not being able to do anything but helplessly soothe them. My grandparents, uncles, aunts, and extended family told me that the light had disappeared from my mother's eyes, she discarded her painting supplies because they reminded her too much of Dylan. This was the first stage of my parent's losing their love for each other, because in the struggle to save their son, they lost each other. As they picked up the tattered remains of their life, they grew apart. Though they'd endured the pain together, everyone copes with grief differently. For my mother, it was trying to forget. Pictures of Dylan were tossed out, old baby blankets were thrown away, and anything that could potentially stir up past pain was shoved into corners of closets. Though he never told her for years, my father collected these items from the trash, knowing that my mother would regret this later on. But he tried to comfort her as she sobbed, wondering how he could piece together her empty soul. He buried himself in his work, desperately trying to distract himself with cases. To my mother it seemed like he'd abandoned her in her time of despair, and she despised him for it. He'd come home from work, blurry eyed and utterly exhausted and she'd curtly wish him a goodnight, not even asking him how his day had gone, as she had done in years earlier. But he finally saw what was happening and took the two of them through grief counseling. For once they let out the words that they'd bottled up and hid away, and that was a key stage to their healing. After they'd stitched up their old wounds they made amends and rekindled their love. The problem is that when life cuts you deep, you do all you can to restore your soul, but our scars never leave us and pain is never truly forgotten. They'd fallen back into love, but it wasn't the same. There was a sort of distance between them, fights came easier, yelling became more common, and the old simplicity that they'd once tasted was something they'd quench for, but never find again. Dad bought mum painting materials for her birthday, and she threw herself back into that world. With a shaky, reluctant hand, she started painting again, painting her grief onto paper, which was better for her than speaking it. Now life started to fall back into place, she painted and he worked, becoming quite a well known lawyer. Then my parents had Piper and I, which was a bit step for them. It'd been years since Dylan, but it was still hard to have children again, when you'd lost one. Would life be so cruel as to take away another? However, things went smoothly. Piper and I were giggling and screeching girls, begging our mother to do our hair in similar fashions, drawing what we thought to be masterpieces in crayon, and running outside way past our bedtime. But as we grew up, they realized that we were entirely different despite the fact that we were twins. Piper was quiet but incredibly talented, like my mother. Even at a young age she discovered her gift while playing instruments. I was like my father, loud, talkative, and always grinning. The problem was that I reminded them so much of Dylan, it was almost haunting to my parents to see my mimic his words and actions, though I didn't even know I was doing it. Naturally they clung to Piper, who was talented and nothing like Dylan. Of course they didn't realize the impact it would have on me, favoring a child. I knew they didn't mean to, but nonetheless it does something to a child to feel neglected by their parents, starving for affection. So when I figured out why I nearly brought tears to my mum and dad when I said certain things, I decided to change. If my personality made my parents sad, then I shouldn't be that way. I grew colder, negative, withdrawn even. In my mind, I was doing the right thing. My parents wondered what they had done wrong, why was their daughter acting this way? So my plan wasn't working out so well. Nothing was making sense, from what I'd learned of love was straightforward, you get through life with love. I thought that was how my parents survived everything, but I must have been wrong. They didn't love me more when I stopped acting like Dylan. My father, who was loud and commanding, tried to push me into a better pathway, which only angered me, because I thought he should have been proud of me for acting this way so he and my mum would stop being so sad. Another thing that didn't help me was their relationship, specifically. The years had not been kind to my parents, and regardless of all they'd done to perfectly mend, they didn't quite fit together like before. Thoughtless remarks sparked fights, judgments caused yelling, and emotionally they started to separate. Though they'd managed to make sure Piper wasn't exposed, but I was clever enough to see through their lies and see how their love wasn't really love. My idea of love was shattered and I started to believe that it didn't really exist, relationships would eventually fall apart, so why bother in the first place? When I confronted them about everything, they assured me that they loved each other and they loved me just as much as Piper. I was wary of them, and didn't believe them. I became guarded, not trusting people, because of all that happened. I twisted myself into this person, blaming life and my parents for making me this way.

"Patricia?"

Joy's voice brings me back into the real world and I look up to see her staring at me with a worried expression.

"Patricia are you okay? I've been trying to talk to you but it doesn't seem like you've been listening…"

I shake my head, wondering how I could have drowned her out so easily, "Sorry, I was just…thinking."

"Anyway, I was saying that I know you've had bad experiences with love, but maybe this is the chance for you to learn how to!" she grins, and I realize that I'm really lucky to have her as a friend. We met in high school and she taught me how to be a little more normal. Joy had always been the girl that I would have despised, adoring rom coms, flipping through fashion magazines, gushing about boys, and such. But for some reason she took me in and coaxed me into being a better person. Though I pretended to hate it, she made me do all of that mushy best friend stuff with her, and stayed friends with me despite my protests. Eventually I told her my story and that made her understand me even better, and we've been inseparable.

"But what if he-"

"Breaks your heart?" Joy chuckles softly, "Then that's what happens, Patricia. Love is a risk, but it's a risk that we take because it's worth it sometimes. I don't know what will happen when you fess up about your feelings to Eddie, but I can tell you this, it'll be an adventure no matter what the outcome."

"You make it sound so easy," I sigh, glancing up at a picture hanging on the wall of me, Piper, and Joy at the beach. Joy and Piper are the only people in this world that I trust entirely. But the picture reminds me that Joy isn't going to lead me astray, "But…I think you're right."

"_What_?" she mockingly scoffs, "Patricia Williamson is admitting that someone else is right _and _is going to openly and willingly admit her feelings for another human being?"

"Oh shut it," I shove her slightly, but I'm grinning.

"Now the problem is _how _you're going to do it," she scrunches up her nose, deep in thought.

"Exactly. What if I start insulting him when I want to tell him how I feel? You know I have no filter at all."

"We can work around that," she assures me and I can see the gears in her head turning, "You just have to find a way to tell him everything that you're telling me now. And take it slow, you barely know the kid!"

"I know, I know," I mutter, "And stop acting as if this is a fairytale! True love's kiss isn't going to solve my problems."

"Are you accusing me of escalating things? I cannot believe you!" she giggles.

I raise an eyebrow, "I know you well enough to know that you're probably already planning our wedding."

"I can just see it now…green and silver, are the colors, yes! Picked by me, of course. Do I see an intense wedding cake fight between the bride and the groom? Seems to me like the maid of honor did such a great job of planning!"

I try to scowl at her but burst into a fit of giggles, "I swear, you are crazy. You're making me talk about boys!"

"I like to pride myself in knowing that I'm a life changer," she grins, "But you're right, I'm getting off topic! So the first step of this whole process is apologizing to Eddie and eventually you want to be snogging him right until he's made his way into your bed…"

"Joy!" I scold, hating myself for sounding so scandalized.

"Don't deny the whims that we as females desire!"

I shush her and hold a finger to my lips, "Shhh, quiet your perverted dreams. If you listen closely you can hear the sounds of a million feminist's hearts breaking at the sound of your words. All of their dreams have been crushed and their life's work has gone into dust because of you. How does that make you feel?"

"You sound like Mara," she rolls her eyes, standing up and sticking her tongue out at me, "And either way, I'm going to further pain all the feminists out there," she grabs her bag and pulls out a stack of DVDs and various snacks, "Because we're having a rom com marathon!"

"Awesome," I eagerly snatch a DVD from her and pop it into the player, "Thanks to you I've become accustomed to predictable movies like these. But they're undeniably addicting, especially when watched while eating chocolate and such things."

"I've got it covered," she drops a container of Nutella into my lap, "What are best friends for?"

"What would I do without you?" I grab us two spoons from the kitchen.

"I have no idea," she shrugs, propping her feet up on the coffee table and covering herself with a blanket.

"But you have to admit, you are the worst influence on me. We have work tomorrow and if I'm right, we're going to watch each and every one of these movies. I shouldn't be eating this crap either, I've been trying to eat healthier and this is going to be such a bad idea when I'm out running tomorrow!"

"Fitness freak, much?" she makes a face at me, "Quit your worrying, _Mick_. It is my duty as your best friend to watch sappy movies with you!"

"I know I'll regret this later," I shake my head, pressing play.

"When did you become such a goody two shoes?" she scoffs, "When people see us everybody assumes that you're the bad girl, with your leather jackets, double earrings, questionable tights, black nail polish, and dark makeup, but no! You're just a big softie in disguise."

"I'm trying to watch here. Can you keep it down over there?"

"_Now _she wants to watch," but she settles herself into the couch and for the rest of the night we laugh over stupid movies, Eddie completely forgotten in both of our minds.

Having a friend like Joy Mercer is pretty great, even I have to admit that.

* * *

**Jerome's PoV**

Let me just start out by saying that I am well aware of the fact that I am handsome. What with my purposefully disheveled hair, intense blue eyes, and well picked attire, I think that I am somewhat good looking. Okay, I am slightly exaggerating but you get the point. But I've never been really self conscious about myself, until today that is. And today marks the first day of a long and heartbreaking struggle to win the attention of a girl.

It all started when my roommate, Alfie, and I were walking down the street, staring at shop windows. Alfie Lewis is my best friend, my partner in crime, and my pranking buddy.

By a stroke of luck, I ended up with the most comical and prank loving guy on campus as my roommate. University turned out to be a lot better of an experience with Alfie Lewis as a friend to get you through it all.

So when Alfie and I met, we learned that we shared a common love for pranking, jokes, and anything about zombies. It's safe to say we became fast friends.

Now that we've just finished up a load of horrendous finals, we're enjoying some free time with a trip into town.

"Dude, I am starving," Alfie moans, hungrily eyeing a nearby restaurant.

"You only ate something what, 20 minutes ago?" I chuckle, absentmindedly kicking a pebble.

"That was a _long _time ago," he stops walking and points to the shops, "Come on, man! We deserve a break, yeah?"

I run my fingers through my hair, an old habit of mine, "_Well _you do make a good argument, Alfredo."

His stomach growls, "Pasta_ would_ be deliciousright about now."

"Okay, you do make a fair point," I stuff my hand into my pocket, feeling for any loose change, "But you're buying."

He grins, "Deal! Now where do you want to eat?"

I survey the street up and down, checking for anything that catches my eye when…

"Alfie," I smile maliciously, "Do you remember our friends, Fabian and Mara?"

"Fabi who now? Oh yeah! Our _study buddies_," he bursts into laughter, reminiscing about the experience, "How could I ever forget that?

Okay, let me explain to you how Alfie and I met Fabian and Mara. Due to the stars aligning or by some beautifully random occurrence of fate, Alfie and I were in the same Stats class. But neither of us are very good at maths so we decided to become study buddies with the two smartest people in class. Those two people happened to be Fabian Rutter and Mara Jaffray, who turned out to be the biggest nerds on the planet. At first we mostly used them for their notes, but in the end, Alfie and I started actually understanding the concepts and we became pretty good friends with the two. We even took it upon ourselves to start visiting them where they worked, which was a coffee shop combined with a bookstore. It was pretty great hanging out with them at the coffee shop because we always got lots of free food and a nice chat with everyone that worked there. But the problem was that we'd be itching to try out the new prank we'd be dreaming up. So, being the idiots we are, we decided to play a prank at the shop that has not been spoken of since the day that it happened. Fabian has gone so far as to call it "the prank that must not be named". Let's just say that it involved a certain redheaded gothic pixie, a batch of coffee that had been drastically tampered with, and a suspicious salesperson who bore a striking resemblance to me, but with a moustache. Either way, it landed us in a world of trouble. Luckily the manager of the coffee shop part of the store, Trudy, was actually very sweet and completely forgave us of our childish actions. However, the bookstore's irritable owner, Victor, was not quite so kind. Our punishment was rather harsh, if you ask me. Alfie and I were forced to do a series of demeaning tasks that involved cleaning up the shop. Let's just say that it entailed a single toothbrush to clean every toilet, a mere Q-Tip to remove every spot of mud or dirt, and a meager feather to dust everything. Does that get the picture across?

But despite this incident, we grew to become friends with the majority of the people there. First there was Patricia, who had been the target of our prank. But, we found out that she actually loves pranks, so it all worked out in the end. We're rather fond of her now, possibly to the point of describing her as a friend. Then there's Joy, who is Patricia's overly dramatic and love struck friend. She's very nice but has a wild tongue for gossip. It's not hard learning of Patricia's embarrassing moments from her. And of course we don't want to forget about Fabian, who's just a book loving, goody two shoes if I've ever did see one. But, deep down, he's a nice guy and we've all been trying to hook him up with girls at the shop, regardless of his objections. Don't ask me why we are like this, that's just how it is. Fabian just seems like the kind of person who needs a little shove in order to get a girlfriend. Then there's Mick, who in my opinion is the most unremarkably average person I've ever met. Don't get me wrong he's good at football, but come on! What else is there to him? He's one of those people who is a total jock, through and through. Alfie and I aren't his biggest fans, considering that he wins the affections of basically every girl that he comes in contact with. We attend the same university, and when we visit Fabian we see him because they're roommates. I don't know what bugs me so much, he's just so incredibly thick. But the person who made the most impact on us, and me especially, was Mara Jaffray. She is sweet, shy, smart, and everything nice all rolled up into a neatly wrapped package. In spite of her disapproval towards our pranks, she is always very kind to us. Alfie is constantly nagging me about possibly fancying her, which I have never really quite denied.

"Why don't we pay a visit to our dear friends at the coffee shop?" I ask, rubbing my hands together.

Alfie looks hesitant, "Do you really think that's a good idea, buddy? I can't look at toothbrushes the same now…" he shivers noticeably.

"Oh we'll be fine," I assure him, clasping his shoulder, "Plus we won't have to pay full price _and _we can say hello to good old Victor."

"Speak no more my friend," Alfie holds up a hand to silence me, "I'm hooked, let's do it!"

We high five and walk down the street until we've reached the coffee shop. I go first, pushing the door open and hearing the old familiar bell jingle.

Patricia looks up from brewing a fresh batch of coffee and smirks, "Look what the cat dragged in! If it isn't Lewis and Clarke."

Alfie comes next, grinning flirtatiously as he always does, "What's up, Trixie?"

"Not much," she motions for us to join her at the pastry window, "Have you two been keeping out of trouble?"

We walk to the front counter I greet her, "I think you must be mistaking us with someone else, because we never get into trouble."

"Yeah right," she scoffs, handing us each a cup of coffee, "Drink up, boys."

"You're as sweet as you are beautiful," teases Alfie, touching his cup to mine, as if we're toasting.

"Oh shut up," she laughs, but I can tell that she enjoys the compliment.

Joy enters in, carrying a large sack of flour, "Hey guys!" she drops it into the floor and wipes her forehead, "Haven't seen you two troublemakers for a while."

"Exams," I shake my head as I sip from the cup, "Dreadfully long and undeniably painful. I'm just glad they're over."

"How do you think you've done?" Joy asks, walking over to us.

"Terrible," Alfie mutters.

"Well you can't have done _that_ bad," Fabian calls out, laughing as he walks towards us, "Did you study, at least?"

"It would have been a lot easier to study if we had you and Mara in our class," I reply, "So to answer your question, yes, we did study."

"At least we _tried_ to study," Alfie drains his cup and slams it onto the table, "That was delicious. Can we have something to eat, please?"

"The ever hungry Alfie strikes again," Patricia snickers, but lets out a lengthy yawn, "Help yourselves to some fruit or muffins for now, but how about we all eat together for our lunch break?"

"Our manager, Trudy is making us her cheese sandwiches," Joy smiles brightly, "How sweet is she? I'm sure she'll make you two some as well!"

"Trudy is so lovely," I remark, snatching an apple, "We've wreaked havoc in your store and barely know the woman, yet she acts like she's our mother or something. Astonishing, isn't it?"

"Trudy's like a mother to everybody," Fabian shrugs, "And speaking of lunch…we'll be having some new people join us."

I raise an eyebrow, taking a loud, crunching bite from my apple, "New people, is that a joke? You people are so exclusive, the only reason Alfie and I got to join your little gang is because we were study buddies."

"Friends with benefits, much?" Alfie smirks, nudging me.

"My friend, I don't think that you understand the meaning of that phrase," I smack his head with the uneaten side of the apple.

"We're not exclusive!" Joy defends quickly, "Just…picky."

"Thank you for providing me with a synonym of the word I just described," I lean against the countertop, "So who are the newcomers?"

"Americans," Patricia answers dryly, "Their names are Nina and Eddie, they just moved here from the states."

"They're brother and sister who are going to be attending university together," Fabian pipes in, "So they're about our age. I think we even graduated from high school in the same year…"

"You're awfully knowledgeable about them?" I jeer, a devious smile forming on my face, "How friendly are you with them?"

He blushes profusely, which only provides satisfaction for me about how right I am, "That's what I thought. Since when did you have a thing for American girls, Fabian?"

"Since when did you have a thing for girls, period?" Alfie adds.

"I'm not-" Fabian scowls at us, "You know what I mean. They just happen to be very…interesting."

"_They_? Don't you mean _she_?"

I notice Joy's shoulders slumping visibly, and then I remember that she has a thing for Fabian, though I could care less. It's about time Fabian got a girlfriend, he's a nice enough kid but not even courage to ask anyone out. In my opinion, if Joy doesn't get the nerve to make a move on him, then perhaps she isn't right for him. Maybe this Nina girl is bold enough to actually get things going between the two of them. Though at this point I've never even met the girl, but I can tell whoever she is, she makes him all sappy, so based on my assumptions she could be just right for him.

"She?" Fabian laughs in a high pitched tone, "I don't know what you're talking about."

I scoff, "Oh give it up, Rutter. What is she like?"

"Am I really t_hat_ obvious?" his eyes scan around the shop for this girl, and then he turns back to us, "Nina's got really pretty wavy hair and the greenest eyes you've ever seen it-"

I hold up an impatient hand, "Those are but mere insignificant details to me. What's her…personality like?"

"Is Jerome Clarke actually caring about another person?"

We all whip around to locate the source of this familiar voice, that doesn't normally make sarcastic observations.

It's Mara, Mara Jaffray, but I can hardly believe it. She's wearing an intense amount of eyeliner, a low cut shirt, a skirt that's miles away from her knees, black high heels, and her normally curled hair is laying straight down. She's barely recognizable.

"What are you lot staring at?" she demands, glaring at everyone, who's staring, utterly dumbfounded at the very sight of her.

Alfie tentatively walks towards her, inspecting her up and down, "Who are you and what have you done with the real Mara Jaffray?" he questions, prodding her with his index finger.

"Get away from me!" she hisses, which causes him to slowly back up with hands in the air.

"Were you kidnapped by aliens?"

"No," she snarls, "Why can't a girl dress up a little bit around here?"

"Is it act like Patricia day or did Alfie and I miss something?" I ask.

"Hysterical, Clarke," Patricia rolls her eyes, "Hysterical."

"Mara why are you dressed like that?" Fabian inquires, looking vaguely appalled by her outfit.

"If you must know, it's to impress someone," she smiles, gathering an air of superiority, "Got a problem with that?"

"No, no!" Fabian corrects quickly, "It's just…a new look for you."

"I don't care if you like it or not," Mara shrugs indifferently, "I can dress as I please and who's going to stop me? Certainly none of you."

"Okay _Jaffray, _why don't you tone down the sass and tell us who you're dressing like that for?" I ask, not sure I want to hear the answer. In all honesty I thought Mara looked better when she wore simple clothing, her hair was in soft curls, and she was sweeter.

"Like I'm telling_ you_," she scoffs, dramatically flipping her hair.

I make a face at her, "Like I really care. Come on Alfie, let's get a table and eat our food until we're actually wanted around here," I grab a few bananas and muffins, practically dragging Alfie to a table.

"So what do you think of the new Mara?" Alfie questions, examining a lemon poppy seed muffin, "Sexy or way too much?"

"It's…different," I reply lamely, gazing at her talking to Patricia and Joy from across the shop, "I just think that people want to change themselves way too often for other people."

"Who cares about that?" Alfie brushes off my comment naively, "I think she's way hotter now. I'd take a sexy Mara over a booky Mara any day."

"Alfie you can't just like people based off of what they're wearing," I snap, "Like, you know, don't judge a book by its cover?"

"That cover happens to look extremely good in those tights," Alfie retorts, "Beside, when did you become so…weird? I know you fancy Mara and all but you're not acting very…Jeromey."

"So I'm not acting Jeromey and Mara isn't acting Maray?"

"This is serious! What happened to you? Ever since you started liking her you've gone all soft and boring."

"I'm not boring!" I cry defensively, "Alfie, you're looking at the King of Pranks, who's not gonna let some girl ruin his reputation."

"As much as I want to do some serious pranking," he looks around nervously, "I don't want to get in trouble with Victor again."

"We won't get caught," I assure him unperturbedly, "Come on, are you in or are you out?"

"Of course I'm in!" he rubs his hands together eagerly, "Got any ideas?"

"Oh I've got _plenty_."


	4. New Day

**Joy's PoV**

Once Jerome and Alfie have finally left I pull Mara and Patricia aside so we can talk without interruption.

"Okay spill, what's with the new outfit?" I ask Mara with a grin, gesturing to her clothes, "Not that it doesn't look _amazing_."

"Amazing?" Mara echoes, slightly reverting back to her old self as she bites her lip, "Is it too much?"

"Of course not!" I squeal, "Oh my gosh I bet every guy in here is totally attracted to you. Mara you're hot!"

"Thanks Joy," she blushes, looking quite pleased with herself, "And the reason I'm wearing this is….for Mick."

"Are you serious?" Patricia groans, "Did you actually take my advice? Why are people doing that?"

I click my tongue disapprovingly, "Mick? Hun, that's not how it works. You shouldn't have to change for someone to like you!"

"Hypocritical, much?" Patricia snaps, scoffing, "You're the one who's pretending to like Harry Potter so Fabian will like you more!"

"Those are two completely different situations!" I stammer, cheeks growing red.

"Uh huh, of course," Mara says hotly, expression fuming, "I thought you said I looked good? And now you're judging me because it's over a guy, that's _rich, _Joy."

"You _do _look good!" I say quickly, "I just think that-"

"Give it a rest you two," Patricia mutters with a sigh of irritation, "Let's agree on this, Mara looks fantastic, you two are doing crazy things for guys, and I am never giving advice ever again."

With a defeated laugh, I throw my arm around Mara, "Oh alright, alright. At least promise you'll play hard to get with Mick?"

"I swear by it," she giggles, elbowing me away, "Oh I forgot to ask! How's the bet going, Patricia?"

I suppress a giggle, "Yeah, tell us!"

"We can talk about it at lunch," she grumbles, scowling directly at me.

"Will Eddie and Nina be there?" Mara inquires, a sly smile growing on her face.

Patricia sulkily nods, averting her gaze and returning to making coffee.

"So that means…Eddie complimented you? What did he say?" she urges, utterly flabbergasted.

"I'd rather not say," Patricia replies curtly, pretending to be absorbed as she stirs.

"The truth will come out eventually," Mara gently teases, eyeing me with suspicion as if she knows that I'm guilty of withholding information.

"Don't you have books to sell?" hisses Patricia, "Suddenly the bookworm gets a lower cut shirt and she thinks she's all that."

"Oh fine, but you will tell me, sooner or later!" she cries as she walks away, waggling her finger warningly, "Mark my words!"

As soon as I'm sure she's gone I turn to Patricia and speak in a hushed tone, "Since the Americans will be having lunch with us that means you can confront Eddie about what happened yesterday!"

"Oh goodie!" she says with false cheerfulness, "I get to admit to the cockiest guy on the planet that I am fiercely attracted to him and that even though I slapped him, I thoroughly enjoyed kissing him. And I get to do all that while being surrounded by my coworkers. I can't wait!"

I roll my eyes, "Well if you do it with _that _attitude…"

"Joy!" Patricia whines, "This is really hard for me. I don't…_do _relationships. I know that sometimes I pretend like I don't want anybody to care about me…but I really want to let people in sometimes, but the moment I try is when I start to mess things up."

I smile softly, "Just tell him how you feel and I think that he'll understand. Eddie seems like the kind of guy who gets it, you know? If anybody's brave enough to kiss an angry Patricia Williamson, then that man has got to have the guts to try and go further, despite how you feel about love."

For a moment Patricia looks at ease with the world but then there's that accursed jingle of the front door and she snaps back into defense mode.

The two Americans stumble in, looking rather flustered. Eddie's hair is unkempt and I think his shirt may be inside out. Nina's wearing glasses and her normally styled hair is thrust up into a hasty bun. For a moment they seem disoriented but Eddie catches sight of Patricia and his cheerful, albeit immature smirk is instantly deflated. Nina, on the other hand, gets one look at me and proceeds cautiously, making me feel somewhat guilty. Though Patricia actually committed the crime, Nina's probably smart enough to interpret my glares at her and my friendship with Patricia as being the enabler of the foolish spilling of the iced tea.

With all the Patricia and Eddie nonsense lately I've briefly forgotten my endeavors to make Fabian want to go out with me. Though technically Nina is in the way of my goal, as I watch her innocently sneak a glance at Fabian, I realize that I've been too harsh on her. She's nice enough and never done anything to me, although she might have a reason to now.

For reasons beyond my comprehension, a sense of calmness washes over me as the two approach us. It's stupid that a simple entrance can change my entire view, an internal struggle that I've had for months, and just one moment makes me see other perspectives. All in that very instant I decide that maybe I'm just chasing the end of a rainbow. Fabian and I just aren't compatible and I'm wasting my time if I keep going after him. Wanting him makes me miserable and I deserve somebody who wants me back. Relationships should be easy and ours is anything but, I mean, it isn't even a relationship! I've gotten so caught up in wishing that I could find happiness with him that I've probably missed opportunities elsewhere to make myself happy! Somehow, after so many sleepless nights of contemplating of what I should do next, I decide that I'm done. I am done with trying to impress Fabian Rutter.

Unfortunately my epiphany comes just as Nina and Eddie are ready to order their coffee so they get to endure the sight of me grinning stupidly, thrilled at the prospect of what was going to happen now. But most people aren't trained in the art of recognizing when someone is having a life changing or at least _love _changing revelation. So naturally they are relatively bewildered by my faraway look.

"Excuse me?" Nina coughs politely, staring daggers at Eddie to keep him from making a derogative comment.

Snapping out of my thoughts, I blink and turn to them with an apologetic but genuine smile, "Er, sorry about that! I was just a little, absorbed, if you will. How can I help you?"

Nina looks taken back by my cheerfulness but gladly accepts it, "Oh, yes! We'll have an iced caffè latte, a green tea, two croissants, and a bagel," she orders, hungrily staring at the food behind the glass.

"Somebody's hungry today," I remark with a light laugh, jotting down their order as Patricia gawks at me, apparently confused by my sudden change of attitude towards Nina.

"Oh yeah!" Nina nods enthusiastically, "We just had our first classes today and we discovered that skipping breakfast is a major disaster because we're ravenous!"

"I can relate," I respond cheerfully, handing Patricia the slip of paper with their order on it, "Anyway, your food will be ready soon!"

"Fantastic," Nina flashes a quick smile and all but drags Eddie to a table, who stared numbly at Patricia throughout the whole conversation.

The moment that they're seated and out of hearing range Patricia leans in closer to me and hisses in a low tone, "When did you become all buddy buddy with the Americans, especially Nina?"

"I was just thinking about this whole stupid Fabian situation and I realized that I'm totally better off without him," I reply happily, "I can't believe that all this time I couldn't see how silly I was acting."

Patricia arches her eyebrow dubiously, "And this came to you in the time that it took for them to walk from the front door to here?"

Nodding, I break into a wide smile, "Don't you get it, Patricia? I'm giving up on chasing after Fabian! I _don't care _if he wants Nina because I don't want him."

"And just like that, you don't like Fabian anymore?" she inquires doubtfully, "You know it's not that easy, yeah?"

"I know," I assure her, "But I'm no longer going to waste my time on someone who barely even notices me. Why throw away the best time of my life on him? It's time for me to find some joy, that's my name, right?"

Her expression relaxes and the corners of her mouth tug into a small smile, "I'm happy for you," she tenderly throws her arm around my shoulder, "It's about time, yeah?"

I shove her playfully, grinning like mad, "Oh hush up, you big jerk!"

"Glad you're back, I don't know how much more I could take of love sick Joy."

"You're one to talk," I laugh, nodding at Eddie, "I guess it's my turn to deal with love sick Patricia?"

"I am not love sick!"

"You're not?" I ask with mock astonishment, "You could have fooled me!"

"You know, I think the customers are getting pretty hungry. Why don't you get started on their drinks, we wouldn't want to keep them waiting!" she says with a cheeky smile and turns around promptly, humming noisily as she butters the croissants.

"Very funny, but you are going to have to talk to Eddie sooner or later!"

* * *

**Amber's PoV**

_12:00 P.M._

_Stomach still growling like a vicious tiger about to attack its prey._

_Still unsure of whether I'm using a dress or a more casual look for Fashion Week._

_Forgot to call Nina Martin from the coffee shop about the modeling job._

In five minutes my lunch break will start and it couldn't come any sooner. It's been an exhausting day already and it's only noon! Apprenticing as a fashion designer at the prestigious, multi-million dollar company, _Beyond Flawless, _has turned out to be quite more stressing than I expected. Though I shouldn't be one to complain, despite the fact that I'm still in college, I still have a top of the line room (I assume that my father is responsible for that) for designing. One section has a table surrounded by manikins dressed in various articles of clothing and scattered papers full of new ideas for dresses, shoes, and such. Next is my desk with a computer for dealing with costumers and in the back is the pièce de résistance, shelves filled with all the high heels I've designed. What can I say? It's my specialty.

"Amber?"

I look up from examining my freshly manicured nails to see a fellow apprentice designer staring at me with a perky smile.

"Hi Katie," I say pleasantly, gesturing for her to enter into my station, "How can I help you?"

"Amber," she addresses again me with a note of confidentiality, brushing back her unnaturally colored bangs, "We're friends, right?"

"Of course," I lie, smiling as sweetly as I can, "What do you need, sweetie?"

She lets out a sigh of relief and comfortably eases herself into a sitting position on my table, "Can I ask for a favor?"

"Anything," I answer dutifully.

"So you know how fashion week is coming up?" she restlessly fidgets with the massive bracelet strung around her wrist.

"Of course," I nod my head mournfully, "It'll make or break you is what Miss Karrie says."

"Exactly," she adds breathlessly, "So I was wondering if you'd help me with the shoe part of the competition? My dress is flawless, oh gosh you should see it, I've combined peach straps with a mint-oh never mind I ought to just show you later-anyway, everyone knows you are the absolute best at designing high heels and I would be honored if you could just give me a teensy bit of help drawing up ideas for them."

I hold back a contemptuous comment and force myself into a tight smile, "Hun, you are fully capable of making your own brilliant high heels. Besides, I'm totally swamped with college stuff and my lunch break is right about now," I shrug, hoping that I come off as genuinely sorry.

She bites her lip and her eyes are screaming that she is fully capable of committing murder and getting away with it but that's obviously not how we handle things here, "Of course, I totally understand."

"Great. We're still totally friends though," I remind her, flashing my most innocent smile, "Right?"

"Duh," she laughs unconvincingly, obviously fooled by my act, "Where are you going to eat? Hope it's not somewhere icky, Miss Karrie always says that a fashion designer should keep a small figure or else her clients will not have faith in her."

"Oh it's just a little old coffee shop," I say indifferently, ignoring her indiscreet comment about my weight, "Nowhere special."

"Fun, fun," she muses and I imagine that she's already planning a new way around her shoe problem, "Ta ta then Amber, eat healthy! Stay away from carbs, wouldn't want Miss Karrie to fire you because of a few extra pounds."

Right about now I'm contemplating murder myself. Though my thoughts are on undetectable poisons I could slip into her coffee my demeanor is the complete opposite, "Thanks sweetie, I'll see you soon!" and with that I slip my arm through my handbag, confidently struting out, leaving a stunned and betrayed Katie in my wake. Luckily I know that she still perceives me as the typical dumb blonde I make myself out to be, so I don't feel threatened at all by her.

Just as I am about to exit my designing station the manager of the company, the legendary Miss Karrie, who created her own line of handbags at the age of 13 that overall made around 1.3 million dollars, stops me. What I know is that as she became even more successful and sold even more of her products she started up her own fashion designer apprentice business. Here at _Beyond Flawless _Miss Karrie selects candidates to work with her and the top designer is allowed to be her business partner. She usually only chooses those in their mid twenties but I attend a fashion college in London and we were given the opportunity to compete in a competition that would allow us to work with her. A few of my fellow classmates and I are currently stationed here, working as apprentice designers in hopes of impressing her, and on the side, still in fashion college. All of the other women despise us because of it. Either way, Miss Karrie is in charge of judging us based on our designs and this week is a competition called Fashion Week. We each have a week to assemble a model who will wear this month's trend, _Spring in her Step_.

"Miss Millington," she beams, kissing both my cheeks affectionately.

"Miss Karrie," I mimic her actions, hiding my uncomfortable view on her odd greetings, "How may I help you? I'm just about to leave for lunch."

"Of course, darling," she puts her arm around me, making the oversized golden bracelets dangling around her wrists jangle, "Now I know you must be absolutely _drowning _in work what with everything coming up lately but I just wanted to know-how is your fashion week project doing?"

"It's going fabulous," I say confidently, "I've already got a model in mind."

"Wonderful!" she exclaims proudly, "I can only imagine how stunning she must look in your clothes."

"She's a bit unconventional but I think you'll find her ideal."

"Ah, you are quite the wild one, Miss Millington, always bringing something new to the table! I adore that about you!" she lets go of me and claps her hands, "_Oh! _I nearly forgot, you are on your lunch break! Dear me, so sorry if I've taken away any of your time."

"It's no problem, as an amateur designer I find that spending time with an expert such as yourself is a time I should cherish."

She gives me an odd look and I mentally kick myself because I've momentarily strayed from my act, "Well I'm gonna go eat lunch now, designing makes me so hungry!"

"Yes, yes," she nods understandingly, "Well off you go now! Have fun, darling!"

Hurriedly, I depart from the building before anyone else can talk to me. It's exhausting pretending to be something I'm not.

I stroll through down the streets, ignoring the obnoxious sounds of the city. Usually I love the crowded, busy feel but today I just want to get away from it all. Luckily the coffee shop is just around the corner and I can already begin to smell the baked goods, making me feel weak with hunger.

Finally when the sign _Rodenmaar's Reads and Trudy's Treats, Sweets, and Drinks _comes into view I exhale contentedly, hoping that I'll run into Nina again. Pushing through the glass front door, my shoulders visibly relax. It's so quaint and tranquil in here, with its antique looking books lining the shelves and handmade delicacies urging you to take a whiff. My eyes scan around the room and they land on Nina and her brother, who are chatting with Fabian, the guy that that Nina totally has a crush on who sells books. A brunette, who has on the same uniform as Fabian (but might I add, she does _not _look like the kind of person who works at a bookstore given the length of the skirt underneath her uniform), is curled up in an armchair, a massive and dusty book in her hand. The two girls who were at the coffee shop yesterday, the other brunette and the redhead, are sitting with two guys I haven't met at a table. A kind, somewhat plump woman is handing a plate of chocolate chip cookies to a customer at one end of the store and at the other end there's an old man with an oddly trimmed beard and a grimace on his face selling books. Other than a few stray customers the place is relatively empty, which for some reason makes it that much better. It's like my own special and secret place that I can guarantee hardly anyone will know about.

"Hey, Amber! Come sit with us!" Nina greets me with a grin and I feel quite welcome, I've only known this girl for a day and she's already treating me like we are best friends. Now _this_ is the kind of person I wish I could have been friends with in high school.

Sitting across from the Americans and Fabian, I breathe in, letting the sweet smell of baked goods fill my nose.

"How'd your first day go?" I ask the Martin twins, recalling what Nina told me yesterday about the scholarship she and her brother received to Oxford University.

"Much better now that I'm not in _European History_," Nina answers exhaustedly, "It was at seven in the morning and the professor's voice was so monotone that I could barely keep my eyes open."

Nina's brother, Eddie, leans back in his chair and grins, "_My _first class was at ten and it was great. _Creative Writing _is going to be a breeze!"

Fabian looks a bit surprised, "You're taking that course? I am as well, but I did not think writing sort of fellow."

"Well I happen to be _a writing sort of fellow_, thank you very much," Eddie snaps impatiently, "Now can we order something for lunch? I have a class at one and I'd rather not have my stomach growling as loudly as it did in my last class."

"Oh, speaking of that!" Fabian exclaims cheerfully, "Would you three fancy having lunch here? Trudy, the owner, makes a mean grilled cheese sandwich for us and we, meaning everyone who works here, usually try to get together for lunch once a week or so and we'd love if you joined us."

"We?" Eddie smiles tightly, "I'm guessing that a certain redhead was against us joining the Lunch Club?"

But this doesn't even faze Fabian, "She'll get over it. But would you like to come?" He's staring directly at Nina, blue eyes sparkling.

"_We'd _love to come," I interrupt, actually excited at the idea of getting to know more people outside of work and school.

Clearing his throat, Fabian turns to us, "Fantastic. Shall we?" standing up, he extends his hand out to Nina who gives him a small smile and grasps his hand, pulling herself up.

I can't help but notice how their hands linger afterwards. Then they both realize what they're doing and yank their hands away, conveniently becoming absorbed in distant objects and blushing slightly. Eddie catches my eye and we share an amused look.

As soon as the brunette who served me coffee yesterday sees us coming she nudges a tall blonde boy who begins to push a few tables together.

Eventually we all sit down and as more people more approach, the more I realize that I hardly know anybody.

The woman who was selling cookies at the coffee shop and bakery part spots us and smiles motherly, "Hello dearies!" she cries in what I recognize as a slight Irish accent, "Your sandwiches will be ready soon!"

I reach into my handbag to grab a bit of cash but she holds up her hand in protest, "Oh don't worry about that, it's my treat!"

And with that she exits into the kitchen and we all sit in an uncomfortable silence, because not all of us know each other.

"Okay let's skip all of this _awkwardness_," I announce, standing up, "Since some of us are unfamiliar with who we are sitting with us let's do a…get to know you of sorts. Considering that you're going to have three new regular customers you ought to know them and we ought to know you. Let's do this…what college are you attending, what are you majoring in, why, and what would you like to do after college? I'll go first!" I take a breath, suddenly aware of everybody's eyes on me, "My name is Amber Millington. I'm currently at the London School of Fashion majoring in Fashion and Textile Design. Why? Just look at my clothes! And when I graduate I'd like to be a fashion designer. Who's next?"

And then it feels like grade school when the teacher asked for volunteers and everybody suddenly became deathly silent.

But thankfully a dark skinned boy with a goofy grin stands up, rubbing his hands together eagerly, "Hello everyone. I'm Alfie Lewis, joker extraordinaire. I go to Cambridge University and I'm working towards a major in food science because well…I love food! I love making it, eating it, and learning about it isn't too bad either. And when I'm done," he rubs his hand against his chin thoughtfully, "I'd like to be an official taste tester or something. Oh I'd like to maybe be a food critic, get paid to eat food, how _awesome _is that?"

He looks around the table, as if to seek approval and with an enthusiastic grin he sits back down.

Next to stand up is Fabian, "My name is Fabian Rutter. I'm at Cambridge University, with an Literature Major because I love reading and writing, plain and simple. I'd love to be an author one day but that's impractical so it'd be interesting to be a college professor perhaps," he says and sits down.

"Guess it's my turn then," a slim girl with deep brown straight hair (she seems very uncomfortable in her clothes) stands up, her voice meek despite the fact that she mostly knows everyone at the table, "I'm Mara Jaffray. I'm going to Cambridge as well, also majoring in Literature and minoring in Political Sciences. Reading is a passion of mine, but I love learning about political and you know, I want to make a difference in this world, even if it's small. And as for what happens next, is prime minister a little too ambitious?" she chuckles, more relaxed now.

The lanky blonde boy stands up next, albeit somewhat reluctantly, "Well this is weird. But nonetheless, I am Jerome Clarke. Also going to Cambridge with a major in Criminology. And for the why…criminals just interest me, that's all," he runs his slender hands through his hair, "It's a dream of mine to work as a detective with the police. A bit like Sherlock Holmes, yeah?" which earns a quick grin from Mara.

The redhead stands, "I'm Patricia Williamson. Unlike everybody else, I'm attending Oxford University."

Eddie whistles, looking impressed, "Oxford? Yacker, that's pretty prestigious."

She throws a glare in his direction, "Try not to interrupt me, slimeball."

It takes a lot of effort not to verbally announce that there is an excessive amount of sexual tension between these two but I'm sure everybody already knows that.

"Anyway," she says, "I'm majoring in Psychology because I like learning the why behind people and their actions." I'm oddly interested by this Patricia girl. On the outside she seems very prickly and untouchable but it's like when someone reveals something about themselves and they seem a little softer and more likeable.

"And as for my career later in life…I dunno," she shrugs, "I guess I'll figure that out one day."

She clears her throat, slowly sitting down. Even her friends look a bit surprised, perhaps they didn't know this about her.

The kind brunette quickly stands up as soon as Patricia is done, "Well I am Joy Mercer!" she says, her tone bubbly, "I'm at the London Film Academy. My major is Film, you know, cinematography and such. My minor is in advertising though. The why is obvious, I love anything to do with films!" she smiles, "Making films, watching films, you name it! Oh man I could talk forever about it. But I won't! Anyway, I want to be a film director or producer one day. Currently I'm working on a short film about a girl who moves from a small town to New York where she tries to open her own cupcake shop and struggles with the real world. That's me!" she slides back into her seat, looking satisfied.

Now all that's left are the Americans and Nina is the first to stand up, "Hello! I'm Nina Martin, from America of course," she laughs nervously, "I'm at Oxford too, majoring in World History. Why? Uh, let's see…I love learning about the past and ancient people's cultures and traditions. There's so much we don't know about the past and I want to be the person to find new things. In the future I want to be an archeologist."

Once Nina's seated again, Eddie stands up, "Last the best of all the game, huh? I'm Eddie Martin and going to Oxford."

"What?" Patricia cries, narrowing her eyes, "You're at the same school as me?"

He smirks, "It's a big school, I doubt we'll run into each other."

She huffs loudly but he continues, "I'm getting a degree in fine arts but on the side I'm majoring in Journalism. And this is because…well not to brag or anything but I'm the artistic one in the family. Anything to do with art is great, I play the guitar, drums, and I'm learning how to play the piano. I can draw pretty well and make a mean clay pot in ceramics. And generally I just love music. Now when I get older I want to own my own recording studio but if that doesn't work I do have an interest in journalism. Working at The New York times has always been a dream but I could settle for The Guardian. And yeah, that's all."

And that's a wrap. Finally, when Eddie is sitting down I stand up again, smiling brightly, "All right, that was great! Now we all know each other!" I sit down and all at once everybody launches into conversations.

Looking around me, I can't help but feel solely responsible for all the new friendships about to ensue.

And hopefully a few relationships, if I can work my magic with these people.

* * *

**Nina's PoV**

It's been about ten or so minutes so we all introduced ourselves and now that Trudy's given us all sandwiches I realize how hungry I am.

Tentatively I pick up my cheese sandwich, a little unsure of it. Trudy said that it contains applewood smoked bacon and green apple slices. How can the combination of that actually taste good?

Directly on my right, Patricia rolls her eyes, "Just eat it," she says.

So I take my first bite and the gooey, warm cheese fills my mouth. It's actually quite delicious but it's something I never would have put together.

"So, Patricia," I muse, turning towards her, "I just wanted to say…sorry for Eddie said to you yesterday. I honestly thought he'd act a little more mature than that…"

"Oh," she says, looking as if she was expecting me to say something else, "Oh. _That. _It's fine, I'll live. I've heard worse things."

What a relief, I expected her to react less calmly, "Oh good," I laugh lightly, "Sometimes it sucks to have a troublemaking twin."

She smiles sympathetically, "Tell me about it," then she observes my confusion and corrects, "I mean, that's too bad."

I raise an eyebrow, "What do you know about troublemaking twins?"

She looks around apprehensively then turns to me, lowering her voice, "Would you believe me if I told you that I have a troublemaking twin as well?"

"No way!" I gape at her, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth, "Seriously?"

She nods, "And I kid you not, a musical twin as well."

"Oh my gosh," I shake my head, astonished, "This is pretty hilarious, you have to admit."

"Yeah, it is," she grins, "Her name is Piper and she goes to Juliard."

"Ooh," I click my tongue, "Eddie wanted to go there _so _bad. I'm so glad he didn't though, it's bad enough he's constantly bragging about his talents."

She groans, "Oh I know! Piper is always dropping little hints about herself, not that she means for it to come out like that. I mean I complain at _one _piano recital and she's like _Is it such a burden for you to have to listen to my hard work?_"

"You don't have to convince me! For some reason Eddie cannot _fathom _why I don't want to hear him practicing the guitar at two in the morning. _Why can you not appreciate my genius, Nina?"_

"Not to mention the fact that she gets away with _everything_," Patricia adds, "She's an hour late for curfew and mum and dad don't even care, _a gifted child like Piper deserves it_. But I'm five minutes past curfew and get yelled at! Where's the fairness in that?"

We talk for a while about the burdens of having a twin and such, and when we're done talking I sit in silence for a moment, consumed with unbelief. Yesterday she was dumping iced tea on me and now the incident is forgotten and forgiven. I would have never guessed that Patricia and I could have anything in common. I guess that's the beauty of actually getting to know a person.

* * *

**Fabian's PoV**

From across the table I observe Nina and Patricia actually talking and laughing. Bewildered, I shake my head and turn to Amber.

"Well this was certainly a good idea," I say, "That was quite smart to have everybody introduce themselves."

She beams at me, "Thank you, Fabian. It was nice of you to invite me, I'm guessing that you only intended to invite Nina and Eddie. And you probably wouldn't have minded just going out to lunch with Nina."

I feel a slight flush creeping up my face, "I don't know what you are talking about."

She scoffs, "Don't lie to me. I know that you two are totally into each other. Why not just ask her out?" she asks simply.

"It's not that easy," I hiss, "And why is everybody I know trying to set me up with Nina?"

"I don't actually know you," she points out, "But it seems to me that you two are too shy to make the first move so I think that we, whoever we is, are trying to get you moving. Life is short and so are chances to get with a girl like her!"

I chuckle, quickly changing the subjecting, "Yes, yes. Now speaking of love, remember what I said yesterday? I have a friend who finds you quite pretty and would fancy going out on a date with you."

"And who might this friend be?" she inquires, looking pleased.

"His name is Mick Campbell."

"What's he like?"

"Er, well he's one of my roommates and he's on the university's football team. We've been mates since we were young and he's a great guy and all…"

"Not interested," Amber shrugs, lazily examining her fingernails, "Unless he actually works up the courage to ask me out."

I was most definitely not expecting _that, "_Oh. Well I will inform him of your decision."

"Great," she says, looking bemused, "Speaking of," she mimics me, "why don't _you _gather up the courage to ask Nina out?"

"You're not letting this go, are you?" I ask tiredly, wishing that everyone would just let me do this on my own time and in my own way.

"You catch on quick, don't you?"

* * *

**Joy's PoV**

Eddie, Amber, and I are talking about how spectacular it would be to live in New York and the precise moment I choose to say something is when Jerome decides to obnoxiously clear his throat, gathering the attention of the entire table.

Everyone looks up expectantly from their conversations.

"I have a question," he says, "for the Americans."

"And _why _did you interrupt those of us who are not American?" Patricia asks, her tone seething.

"I figured that you were all curious about the subject so you'd be equally curious to learn the answer," Jerome answers, unabashed.

"Shoot," Nina says, her inquisitive green eyes watching Jerome intriguingly.

"Why England? There are thousands of colleges in America and yet you decide to go to _England?_"

Eddie and Nina share a look but it's Eddie who answers, "We applied and also received an awesome scholarship to Oxford so we thought, why not?"

"_Why not_?" I echo, astounded, "Why did you apply to Oxford in the first place?"

Now it was Nina's turn to shrug, "Same reason, why not?"

Jerome chuckles sharply and without amusement, "How fortunate!"

Alfie snorts, "That's like saying _Oh I'm bored, I think I'll become the prime minister, _becoming prime minister, and then saying _Goodie, what luck_!"

"Hey! We had _amazing _grades, thank you very much," Nina says defensively.

"It doesn't hurt to be a musical genius," Eddie adds shamelessly.

Nina and Patricia share a look which makes me very suspicious that Nina knows about Piper.

"So you'll be the modest twin then?" Mara jokes uncharacteristically and we all laugh.

Eddie at least has the decency to look embarrassed, "I'm not the only gifted twin. Nina wrote some thousand dollar paper about ancient Egyptians and all that crap."

"It's not crap," Nina mutters, blushing an unfortunate shade of red.

"So perhaps you _are _qualified for Oxford," Jerome commends, "but what of the money? Oxford is unbearably expensive, is it not?"

"I'll say," Patricia growls under her breath.

"That's where the scholarship comes in," Nina says, "We were apparently eligible for it and it has helped a great deal."

"Goodness gracious," Fabian breathes, "You two are just full of mysteries, aren't you?"

Oh, Fabian! I suddenly remember my epiphany earlier this morning. Which reminds me that I really ought to inform him of this, I'm sure he will glad to know that he won't have to dread my unwanted affections anymore. But I have class in a half hour so perhaps denouncing love can be done tomorrow.

Before I can announce my departure Amber stands up for the third time, "I just wanted to thank you all for indulging in my wishes and I hope we can do this again in the near future," then she adds thoughtfully, "Somehow a little coffee shop is between all of us. Between all the dorm rooms and universities we all managed to meet here. Fate is strange, huh?"

Everyone murmurs in agreement and I stand up as well, "Fate is indeed strange. However I have a _History of Film_ class that's unavoidable so I'll be off then. It was nice officially meeting you lot," I nod my head towards Nina, Eddie, and Amber, "Goodbye, all!"

"I've gotta go too," Eddie interjects, "_Arts Appreciation _awaits."

We wave goodbye to everyone and as we're walking out of the shop I become acutely aware of the fact that Patricia and Eddie have barely talked since the incident.

Since Eddie and I both walk the same way for a while I take advantage of the situation, taking long strides to catch up with him, "So are you going to talk to Patricia or avoid her for the rest of your life?"

Eddie makes a sound that slightly resembles choking, "What are you talking about?"

I raise an eyebrow, "Mhmmm. Yeah, I already know what happened. It was really stupid to kiss her but it _was _brave. I'll give you that."

"Oh gee thanks," he scowls.

"I mean it! You two are great for each other, man with all that fighting I bet you two can't wait to jump into be-"

He holds up a hand, "Yeah I get it, I have your blessing. Now all I need is Patricia's vote of approval and we're good to go."

"Glad you understand the process," I smile understandingly, "I get it, Patricia's not the easiest person to get along with. But once you get to know her she's amazing, she really is."

He smiles back faintly, "I'd love to get to know her, if she'd just let me in."

"Keep trying," I encourage, "She's worth it. But I would recommend avoiding surprise kisses. Patricia clearly doesn't handle change very well. She's not used to stuff like this."

"Could have fooled me," he jokes, but his tone lacks its usual brightness.

"Just," I sigh, my mind flashing back to when other boys tried to win her affections, "If it does end up working, don't break her heart. If she doesn't kill you first _I'll_ have to."

He doesn't say anything. When we reach the point where we go our separate directions he turns to me with the ghost of a smile.

"Shouldn't you be more worried that she'll break _my _heart?"

I'm speechless. Without another word, he crosses the street and eventually disappears into the moving blur of the city. Once I've gathered my thoughts I continue walking, wondering why this thought never crossed my mind.


	5. Wait

**Alfie's PoV**

After the door closes behind Eddie and Joy with its obnoxious jingle, I fix my gaze on the exceptionally pretty girl, Amber, who has been impressing me ever since she first opened her mouth. What's not to like? She's beautiful, for one, with that long blonde hair falling like a waterfall and those stormy gray eyes of hers. Plus she's ambitious, already striving to be a fashion designer. Most guys want to be the knight in shining armor, saving some poor damsel in distress from a hideous monster but to be honest, I'd rather by fighting side by side with a warrior girl or something like that. I thought that if I was the first to speak after her during the introduction thing then I might give her a reason to talk to me but other than a polite smile I've gotten nothing. So it's time to try a new approach.

"Hey Mara," I nudge the brunette next to me, "What do you know about Amber?"

She shrugs, "Nothing, other than what she's told us. I've never actually even had a conversation with her."

"Oh," I quickly deflate, "I was sort of hoping that you could tell me what she likes so when I talk to her I could know what to say."

"The only thing I know is that Mick likes her and would like to take her out on a date," Mara mutters.

"Fantastic," I growl, "I was already nervous about doing the same thing, but add in the fact that Mick wants the same thing means that this is going to be even harder. And of course _everybody _loves him, he plays football for the bloody school team and is much better looking than me. I swear to you, I thought Mick and I were mates at one point but then he kept stealing all the girls and compared to him, I looked like nothing! He keeps messing things up, you know?" I shake my head, unashamed of my blatant dislike for Mick. And Jerome thinks _he's _the only one who has a grudge against Mick Campbell.

"Believe me," Mara says wistfully, "I know what you're feeling right now. It's the worst feeling in the world, looking at that one person and just wanting to scream so they'll look at you. But you're always looking at them and never the other way around."

"Yeah?" I blink, confused, "Mara, I've never even met the girl. I don't feel quite that strongly about her yet. What are _you _talking about?"

Her eyes widen slightly but she quickly snaps out of it, "Oh, nothing," she says coolly, "Don't mind my babbling."

"Alright then?" I shake my head, what has gotten into Mara? First the clothes and now she's acting quite odd.

"Well I've got to go do a few things before I leave for my class, _Literature in History._ And I really need to talk to Patricia about something…" she stands up and hurries away, avoiding my gaze.

It looks like everyone has been slowly filtering out. Fabian already back at the bookshop, combing through receipts of the past month's sales, Amber and Nina are at a separate table chatting away, and Patricia's cleaning up her station, she must be about to leave as well. Now Jerome and I are the only ones left at the conjoint table.

"Well buddy, I've gotta say, this was a pretty weird day," I tell Jerome, launching into a replay of my conversation with Mara.

"Mhmmm," he mutters absentmindedly, his attention focused on Mara instead of me.

"Dude, are you even listening? I was just about to ask if you think I should-"

"Yeah. I think I need to ask Mara something…"

Jerome stands up and runs his hands through his hair, clearly contemplating something. But I hear him mutter something under his breath and shake his head, decidedly making his way over to the two girls.

"That's right, just ignore your best friend!" I yell after him. What is with everyone today? No matter, I don't need Jerome or Mara's advice to ask Amber out, I can do it just fine by myself.

I walk confidently over to Nina and Amber, who both silence at my arrival.

"Hello ladies," I greet them briskly, "May I speak to you, Amber?"

"Alfie, right?" Nina inquires, looking slightly amused.

Amber looks surprised, as she should, we've not said one word to each other, "Hi Alfie. What's up?" she asks casually.

"Can you?" I nod towards Nina, not wanting to seem rude but I've got a class soon as well and I'd like to get this off my chest before I go.

"Of course," Nina grins, she's smart enough to guess what I'm about to do, "Bye Amber!"

"Bye?" Amber waves helplessly, peering curiously at me, "Does she really have to-"

"Oh it's fine," Nina stands up, hugging a book to her chest," I've needed to talk to Fabian about the sequel to this book that he gave me. You'll call me about the modeling so we can set up sometime this weekend?"

"Of course."

"Great," Nina walks away, leaving Amber and I alone.

"Okay, _Alfie_," she laughs, "What do you need to so desperately talk to me about?"

I relax slightly, grinning, "Okay, first of all _hello_. It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you as well," she says pleasantly, smiling.

"Okay," I take a deep breath, "So I know that this is our first time talking _ever_ but you're insanely beautiful and I would love to take you out on a date."

And for a second she says nothing. There are lots of reactions I'm expecting, the usual ones. The polite refusal, the incredulous laughter and quick rejection, or the outright no.

But to my surprise she breaks into a massive grin, "Sure! I'm glad that someone is finally bold enough to make such a move. Your bravery makes me curious," she arches an eyebrow, "But can you step up to the challenge and follow through?"

"Did you just agree to go on a date with me?" I ask in utter disbelief.

"Why wouldn't I? You're cute and you seem really sweet."

"That's usually followed by a _but_," I say, laughing ruefully, "Like…_You seem sweet but I can't take you seriously_."

"People don't take you seriously?"

I nod, "Especially girls as gorgeous as you. They all think I'm a joke."

"Gorgeous?" she echoes, evidently flattered, "Well you won't have to worry about me thinking of you as a joke, Alfie Lewis. So far you've done nothing but good, most guys would be either drooling over me or acting like pigs."

I huff proudly, "I'm not like most guys."

"And I like that about you."

Are we flirting? Is this what proper flirting feels like?

"So," Amber says, "If you're not like most guys, then what are you like?"

"I guess that's up to you to decide, isn't it?" I resist the urge to wink.

"Indeed it is. And we'll see what you're like on our date. When will that be, by the way?"

"How about tomorrow night, seven, at Ashton's?"

The words blurt out of my mouth before I can even stop them. Ashton's is a mildly fancy restaurant but to a university student with so little money it's rather expensive.

"That sounds fabulous," she stands up, still grinning, "I'll be there."

"I'd better hope so," I grin nervously up at her, standing as well.

Amber laughs, not the light kind of laughter you use to humor someone but the real kind, loud and contagious.

"You're funny," she shakes her head at me, "You're very funny."

What am I supposed to say to that? Thanks? I know?

But she speaks before I can, "I'll see you tomorrow, Alfie," but she furrows her brow, "What should I wear?"

"Ashton's is nice, why don't we dress up a bit? I'll wear a suit, you can wear a dress," then I quickly correct myself, not wanting to sound demanding, "Only if you want."

"I'm all for it," she says and collects her purse, beginning to exit the shop.

"Wait!" I call out.

She turns around, "Yes?"

"Thanks for taking me seriously."

"You deserve to be taken seriously, Alfie."

"Okay," I laugh nervously, waving a warning finger, "Don't stand me up tomorrow night!"

She smiles, a genuine, bright smile that makes her eyes sparkle, "As if!" and then she leaves.

* * *

**Mara's PoV**

"He didn't even show up at all today," I grumble furiously to Patricia, staring down at my ridiculous outfit, "I dressed like this for him and it was all for nothing."

Patricia shrugs, "You know Mick, he's got football games and stuff to do. He hardly even comes in here anymore anyway."

"I really ought to stop confiding in you for boy advice," I sigh miserably, "Joy is a lot better at it."

"So I've heard," Patricia snaps edgily, "And I would greatly appreciate it if you two would stop coming crying to me when you have boy troubles-"

"Patricia, a little sympathy, maybe?" I scold, hoping that she can sense my annoyance.

"Oh sure, I'm _so _sorry that your absurd plan didn't work out," she hisses.

"You were the one who told me to do it in the first place!" I cry indignantly.

"And you took it _way _too seriously," Patricia moans, "I was merely suggesting that you wear cuter clothes and maybe try a bit of makeup or try to be a little more assertive-this is way too overboard!"

She's right, which I hate to admit. I mean come on, I feel so exposed in this short skirt and when I'm talking to them, the eyes of every guy in the bookstore are directly on my chest, these high heels are killing my feet, and I know that my makeup is pretty caked on.

"I know," I say quietly, "I just wanted to look prettier, like you and Joy. And you both are so confident in yourselves. But me, I'm so…_plain_."

Patricia's expression softens, "Mara, you _are _amazing. You're beautiful, incredibly smart, and the nicest person I know. You're every guy's dream. And you don't need to look like _that _to be pretty, you've always been naturally good-looking. And just because Mick didn't come in today doesn't mean that it's all over. There's always tomorrow and pretty soon I bet that Mick's going to open his eyes and see how wonderful you are. And if he doesn't, which would make him more of an imbecile than he already is, then you'll find someone who will always think you're brilliant , no matter what you're wearing."

"Oh Patricia, that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me!" I grab her in a fierce hug. It's very unlike Patricia to be so sensitive to others and coming from her this is a lot.

She reluctantly accepts the embrace, "Yeah, yeah. Now stop hugging me or people will start thinking I'm actually a nice person."

I let go, grinning, "Oh but you are."

She rolls her eyes but she know I'm right, "Now promise me you'll come in tomorrow without the attitude and the clothes?"

"That won't be a problem," I tug insecurely at the skirt, "This is so exceptionally uncomfortable."

"Now that I'm not so cross with you I can tell you about the bet," Patricia says.

"Oh!" I exclaim in surprise having completely forgotten about that, "Obviously you lost the bet but what I want to know is what compliment Eddie gave you."

"He…er," Patricia looks down at the ground, "He called me _pretty_ and _witty."_

"And that's all?" I raise my eyebrows dubiously, "Nothing else?"

"Uh well he also called me testing. Which is more an insult than a compliment-"

"_And?" _I demand.

"And…" the redhead absentmindedly plays with her hair and mutters quickly, "And then he kissed me."

"_Kissed you_?" I echo loudly, "He _kissed _you?"

An uncharacteristic flush creeps into her face but her tone is still seething, "Could you repeat that, a bitter louder please? I don't think they heard you in _China_."

"Sorry," I say, lowering my voice, "But I'm just…astounded. I was most certainly not expecting a compliment, let alone a daring kiss such as that one."

"You and me both," she mutters, but her eyes widen and I turn around to see Jerome standing behind the pastry booth, smiling both pleasantly and deviously.

Jerome Clarke is one of the most mysterious boys I've ever met. His reputation preceded him and when I first met the tall, bright blue eyed boy I thought I knew everything about him. Most teachers were suspicious of him, there were many tales of famous pranks he'd pulled off that had given him his well earned name, The Prank King of Cambridge. Somehow he always managed to get away without too harsh of punishments. Among the girls, however, he was found to be quite handsome but he never showed real interest in anyone. However there were rumors floating around that he visited the jail every weekend but there were no real credibility to those tales. But to my surprise, Jerome Clarke was extraordinarily intelligent and quite charming. He and Alfie became study partners with Fabian and I in our stats class last semester and I found myself having a lot of fun with those two. Ever since the tampered coffee incident and the new semester I haven't seen him as much as I'd like.

"Jerome," I say quickly, "What are you doing here?"

"Oh just-"

"Eavesdropping?" Patricia finishes for him.

"Why Patricia, I'm rather offended you would think so poorly of me. Actually, I was wondering if Mara here," he nods towards me, "would like to accompany me back to Cambridge. We've both got classes at the same time in the same building on Friday afternoons."

"And when did my course schedule become common knowledge?" I inquire.

"It's just that I have begun to notice you walking out of your _Detective Fiction_ class on Fridays as I'm leaving my _Criminal Law_ class," he answers.

"And you've never said hello?"

For a second Jerome looks speechless but he quickly regains his confidence, "Never had the chance to. But now that we're both aware of each other's presence we can say _hello _as much as we'd like."

Patricia shoots Jerome a suspicious glance, which she's evidently earned the right to do so. When Patricia and Jerome first met they hit it off but it then became clear that they were going nowhere. So Jerome took advantage of that and pulled the great and terrible prank. It wasn't much but it gave Patricia reason enough to keep up the playful attitude but not become too attached.

Either way, I ignore that and smile kindly back at Jerome, "Sure, that sounds nice."

He smiles back, blue eyes sparklingly mischievously , "Great. When will you be ready to leave?"

I glance at Patricia whose eyes are urging me to not to do it but I see no harm in simply walking with the troublemaking blonde.

"Momentarily, I just need to retrieve my bag," I excuse myself and duck away to the bookstore section but Patricia follows me.

"What are you doing?" she hisses as I shove textbooks into my bag.

"You're making a rather large deal out of nothing at all," I mutter, waving to Fabian who doesn't notice because he's deeply engaged in a conversation with Nina, "It's not as if I'm accepting a marriage proposal or anything of the sort."

"Anybody would tell you the same thing. That boy's trouble, Mara."

"Ominous much?" I tease, waving my hand dismissively, "What are you suggesting?"

She shrugs and I sigh heavily, yanking the zipper on my backpack until it's closed, "It appears to me that none of your concerns are valid, so I will be off then," and with that I swing my bag over my shoulder and walk over to Jerome, whose arm is stretched.

"Shall we?" his tone is oddly cheerful and honestly, he seems like a lot better company than Patricia right now.

"We shall," I say and let him lead me out the door.

I breathe in, letting my lungs fill with fresh air. The weather is mild, slightly sunny with those slight bursts of wind that ruffle your hair and scatter your paper. Jerome and I stroll leisurely, we have enough time to dawdle and I enjoy worry free moments like these. We make small talk and I'm pleasantly surprised by Jerome, he's normally always joking around and making nasty comments but all alone he seems lighter, more at ease with himself.

"You seem sad," he observes, peering at me peculiarly.

I think of denying it but there's no use, Jerome has always been great at reading people, "I'm not sad, I'm just…_disappointed_."

He nods, silently prompting me to continue.

"You remember that I told you I was dressing this way to impress someone? Well that person never showed up today and I feel rather silly for doing so."

He laughs lightly, "Mara, Mara, Mara. I didn't peg you as the type of person who tries to change themselves for another person. Aren't you supposed to the rational one out of all of us?"

I watch the remains of a dry leaf tumble down the sidewalk, "I can't always be the only one who is sensible. Am I not allowed to have a day off?"

"I think we're all entitled to a day off. Why choose today, though?"

"Because I thought I could change in a day. But it's not that easy, all this," I gesture down, "I feel like I'm pretending to be someone else."

He smiles blandly, "That's exactly what you're doing. You're Mara and whatever _this _is, it isn't you."

"Sometimes I just get tired of being me, do you know what I mean?"

"More than you know," he says with an edge of bitterness in his tone, "But who would you be if you weren't, well, you?"

"I don't know," I reply tiredly, "Maybe someone who understood other people, like you."

He scoffs, "People are never to be understood, they will always do something that surprises us."

"Oh really? I hadn't figured that one out yet," I joke dryly, "But I'm being serious, you always seem to understand people so easily. I'm jealous."

"I can only figure out predictable people. But you, Mara Jaffray, are unpredictable."

"Unpredictable? How so?"

"You are one of the few people who can keep up an intellectual conversation. You can captivate interest even when you're not talking, which alone is remarkable."

I'm pleasantly surprised, "Captivate interest, and what do you mean by that?"

He looks nervous but quickly regains his composure, "Isn't it obvious? I'm trying to-"

"Call me pretty? That's sweet of you Jerome, but compared to the rest of the world I'm a just a shy mouse, surrounded by me books."

"I like mice," he says mildly and I'm not sure what I'm supposed to take from that.

"Well you're one of the few," I mumble but sharpen my tone, enough feeling sorry myself, "Anyway, it doesn't matter anymore. I've learned my lesson."

Jerome looks almost angry, "Mara, yes, you do look very pretty right now, but you look _stunning _all by yourself, without all this bizarre getup."

I stare at my shoes, embarrassed, "I appreciate that, Jerome. I really do."

"Now that that's settled, we can get to the important questions, who has charmed Mara Jaffray into acting like this?"

I knew he'd ask that but I'm in no mood to argue, "Mick Campbell."

"That meathead?" he snorts, "Really?"

"You asked me a question and I gave you an answer," I snap irritably, "Do you have further questions?"

"No, I'll consider the subject no longer approachable," he holds his hands up in defeat, "Well, for your information, even if you do get tired of being yourself, I will always enjoy the real Mara."

"I'm not sure who the real Mara is," I mutter.

"I'm not sure anyone knows who they are," he says wisely, "And liking yourself is a conscious decision; it takes time and effort."

"Do you like yourself?" I blurt out.

He smiles but it doesn't quite reach his eyes, "Of course, what's not to like? A combination deeply handsome and outrageously clever is hard to resist. I'm a catch!"

I chuckle, "They say there's a fine line between confident and cocky."

"I like to pretend that line is not there," he says cheerfully.

As we approach campus, the busy noise of students shouting and hurrying to class causes us to fall into a comfortable silence. We walk together until we reach our joint building. After entering we linger outside our classrooms which are filling up quickly.

"_Detective Fiction_, huh?" he asks, bemused, "As a kid I adored _Sherlock Holmes_, always wanted to be a detective just like him. Catching criminals and such."

"So that wasn't just a scam to impress me?" I tease.

"Of course not," he scoffs, "I have no use for such scams, my delightful personality already impresses everyone I come in contact with."

I shake my head, laughing as I make a step towards my classroom, "I better get to class, see you around, yeah?"

But he grabs my arm, "Wait, Mara, I have to tell you something!"

I flip around, "What is it?"

He opens his mouth to say something but closes it, gulping. I'm about to remind him that if he doesn't get on with it then I'll be late but then he starts.

"This was nice. I feel like we were just starting to get to know each other last semester then we just…fell out of place," he sticks his hands in his pockets, "So what I'm saying is that…we should hang out more."

"I'd like that," I tell him, "I'd like that a lot."

He beams, "Have a nice one, _Jaffray_."

"Jaffray?" I repeat, stifling laughter.

He nods, "You said you didn't want to be yourself and well, I figure a new name is the perfect start. And why not? It suits you." "I'll take it then. See you later, _Clarke_."

We both wave each other off and depart to our respective classrooms. My class starts, but for once, my mind isn't on Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's spectacular literary works.

* * *

**Nina's PoV**

Once Fabian's shift finally ends we both settle down into worn looking couches that reside across from each other in the bookstore. All that's left from our lunch party is us, Patricia and Alfie just left for their classes. So I suppose there are perks to having earlier classes (Fabian and I learned out we share this in common), though it will be burdensome to have so many so late in the evening today.

"So," Fabian muses, eyeing the Egyptology book I clutch in my arms, "when did you become so fascinated with the Ancient Egyptians?"

"It's a long story," I warn him.

"I've got time," he shrugs, half smiling.

"Okay," I say warily, launching into my story, "Eddie and I were raised by my Grandmother, who we call Gran. Our parents died when we were 13."

All these years I've hesitated to tell most people that. I just can't take the pitiful stare they give me, I don't need their condolences, and I don't want anybody else telling me how I should feel. I'm not the kind of person who wants the attention, it was the worst thing that ever happened to me and I will miss my parents every day of my life. But for now, I like to focus on the happiness in my life and talking about it reminds me of those dark days.

"Oh Nina," he murmurs, reaching across the table and placing his hand on mine.

My heart races when he touches me, which is ridiculous, but when has love ever been sensible?

"You didn't say sorry," I say breathlessly.

"Actions speak louder than words," Fabian blushes, "Saying sorry has always seemed rather useless to me."

"No, that's just about the smartest thing I've ever heard. Everybody can say they're sorry but this, a simple touch, means a lot."

Almost as if he's forgotten that we're touching, he slowly inches his hand away from mine and I pull mine away as well, wishing that our hands were still touching.

"So thank you," I focus on twiddling my thumbs in my lap, "For not saying sorry."

He nods and we both avoid each other gazes until I realize how silly this is.

"Anyway…"

"Oh yes, the story! Go on."

I continue, "When it happened, we were all in a state of disbelief. That kind of thing only happened to other people, not to us. Gran always knew if anything happened to my parents she'd take care of us but nobody expects to outlive their child. It was hard enough losing her son, my dad, but add two teenagers you have to take care of and it's a lot to take in. We all had our ways of dealing with things. Eddie's was the piano. My mom was a lot like Eddie, creative, persuasive, and musical. She could sing oh she could _sing_," I tel him wistfully, "Dad always said angels were jealous of her voice. And she played the piano beautifully, sometimes for hours on end. Mom was proud of Eddie for playing the guitar so well, but it was always her dream for him to play the piano. He told me one day that it was his biggest regret that he never learned and that he wished he could play it at her funeral. So he threw himself into learning how to the piano, he was self taught. It was painful, listening to him yell in frustration when he messed up the piece. So I was left to mourn alone. I was in a dark place; I didn't know what I believed in. My family never practiced religion, so I was tormented with the thought of the afterlife. Did my parents exist somewhere or were they reduced to dust? I didn't want to believe that they simply didn't exist. And then one day I was in my dad's stud and I stumbled upon some of his old Egyptology books. He was an Egyptologist and always loved to tell Eddie and me stories from Ancient Egypt. So I started to read some of his books and papers that he'd written. I was beginning to like the idea of an afterlife and that was just one aspect of Ancient Egyptian culture. The more I studied, the more captivated I was. Their beliefs were so simple and pure and I felt like I had a connection to my Dad because of my knowledge. So from then on I started taking classes about it and kept loving every single part of it."

"So why not become an Egyptologist?" he inquires, "Why major in World History and not just Egyptian History?"

"Because every civilization has a rich, deep culture and it's simple-minded to think that I can learn everything I need to know from just one aspect of history," I answer.

He flashes a wide grin, "That's a brilliant answer."

A flush creeps to my face, "Oh, thank you. But that's how I become such a nut about Ancient Egyptians, all thanks to a lot of dusty books and papers in my dad's study. And if you think that's the extent to my love-then think again," the redness in my face increases, "I even got a, uh, tattoo."

I half expect him to snicker but he nods, no judgmental comments or rolling of eyes.

"What of?" he asks, actually curious.

"The Eye of Horus, the Ancient Egyptian symbol for protection," I mumble, embarrassed that I even mentioned it.

"Why'd you get it?"

"There was this one story about a pharaoh who was cursed so that when the sun rose on the next day his two children would die. So he prayed to the Gods, seeking protection, and just as the sun was about to rise a falcon flew over his house. It landed next to him and turned to him with its one bright green eye. And the pharaoh knew that Horus was sending protection, so he drew that eye on his two children and they lived. And that's how the Eye of Horus came to be," I turn my back to him and raise the bottom of my shirt, exposing my Eye of Horus tattoo, "When I was old enough I got a tattoo of it, thinking that I needed protection."

"Protection from what?"

"I thought that maybe I was cursed," I mutter ruefully, "Not that a tattoo could do anything about that."

"Actually," Fabian says, "I understand that. We all feel that way sometimes; like we break everything we touch. And sometimes it's not our fault. But Nina, we all leave fingerprints. We just have to be careful of what we touch."

"Yeah. That's…true," I finish lamely, unsure of how to reply.

Fabian loudly clears his throat, "I've been thinking, Nina, that we ought to learn more about each other. Because, er, it seems foolish not to know someone who I'll be seeing every day."

I smile, "Ask me anything."

"Strange thing you used to do a child?"

I bite my lip, struggling to recall anything peculiar but then it comes to me, "When I was a kid I used to sneak off from science class and swing on the playground."

"And why's that?"

"Because," I laugh longingly, "When you were flying through the clouds on a swing the only science related thing that mattered was gravity. And that was a lesson you could learn on your own."

He grins, "You were adventurous."

"What about you?" I question, "Did young Fabian ever do anything out of the ordinary?"

"One time, in primary school, I fancied my teacher. I gave her dandelions, plastic rings, even wrote her a poem once."

"Are you still just as romantic?" I tease, giggling.

"Haven't had many opportunities to put that to the test," his blue eyes twinkle, "At least not until-"

"Until when?" I urge.

"Er, forget I said anything. Interesting fact about yourself?"

"I love playing soccer."

"You mean football? As does my roommate, Mick. I never was a sports fan myself, though. As for an interesting fact about me, I write songs on the guitar."

"Tell me something funny about a member of your family."

"I thought I was the one asking the questions?"

"Two can play at this game."'

He shakes his head, "Alright. My older sister, Katie, is married to an obnoxious local news anchor."

"How is that funny?"

"It'll be funny," he says, "when you watch the Channel 5 news. Your turn."

I add that to my mental checklist, "Eddie used to walk around in his underwear playing pots and pans because he thought that was what rock stars did."

"A lovely picture is forming in my head as we speak. Favorite color?"

"Green. And you?"

"Gray," he answers.

I raise an eyebrow, "Gray?"

"Yeah," he nods enthusiastically, "Most people say _Oh what a dull color _but it's a certain kind of beautiful."

"How poetic," I muse, "Now when where you born?"

"December 21st," he sighs, "First day of winter, rather drab if you ask me."

"Mine is July 7th," I say proudly, "Right as the clock struck seven in the morning."

"Wow," he whistles, impressed, "They do say seven is the luckiest number. If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would it be?"

That's not a hard one, "The beach. I used to live by it, back in America. Every weekend we'd try to go because my parents had ocean water in their blood. They were practically raised at the beach, met at the beach, and married at the beach," I recall fondly.

"That's lovely. Mine would have to be the meadow outside my grandparent's house. I used to run through the fields of flowers when I was younger and chase the butterflies," he stops, flushing a crimson red, "Er, that sounds very girly of me."

"Oh, I don't know," I chuckle, "Chasing butterflies seems very manly to me.

He appears to be gratified, "Only a true man can brave the butterflies."

"Okay, okay. One last question, what's your favorite line from a poem?" he opens his mouth to protest but I stop him, "Don't tell me you don't know any! You are majoring in Literature, after all."

He hesitates but after a moment he starts, "Still it wouldn't reward the watcher to stay awake/ In hopes of seeing the calm of heaven break/ On his particular time and personal sight/ That calm seems certainly safe last-to-night."

"Robert Frost," I nod, remembering my high school English class, "The woods are lovely, dark, and deep/ But I have promises to keep/ And miles to go before I sleep/ And miles to go before I sleep. I always loved that poem."

"You like poetry?" he asks hopefully.

"I do. I just love how purely a poem can reflect the author's deepest thoughts," I say, hoping I don't seem like I'm making it up to catch his attention.

"Poetry is an expression of the soul," he says seriously, "So is that your favorite poem?"

I shake my head, "who are you,little i/ (five or six years old)/ peering from some high/ window; at the gold/ of november sunset/ (and feeling:that if day/ has to become night/ this is a beautiful way). E.E. Cummings has an amazing writing style."

He sighs contentedly, "I'm not used to people indulging in my abnormal love for poetry."

"Most guys wouldn't admit that they like poetry, but I find it to be a crucial characteristic," I add, trying to be subtle.

"You do?" he grins.

"Absolutely," I confirm, grinning.

Our eyes meet and I know that if I was a more daring person (like Eddie) I'd throw myself onto him and we'd passionately make out, professing our love for each other inbetween kisses. But that hardly happens in real life and neither of us are going to make that move. So we look away and the moment is lost to the wind. We awkwardly exchange goodbyes and go our separate ways. He goes to his desk and is scribbling on some paper, probably finishing up some last minute book orders. Just as I'm about to exit for _Ancient Egyptian Religion _I hear Fabian's voice from across the shop.

"Nina, wait!"

I immediately whip around to face him, hoping I don't seem to eager, "Fabian?"

"I thought you might like to read this," he hands me a dog-eared book with an unreadable cover.

"And this is…?"

"_A Collection of Beloved Poems_," he explains, "It has a lot of fantastic poetry."

I swallow, somewhat disappointed, "Oh, thank you," I mutter a weak goodbye and walk away.

Perhaps there is a point in life where you are much too old for skipping class to swing and much too old to be believing in taking risks like the one I almost just took.

* * *

**Alfie's PoV**

The minute I step foot into Jerome and I's cramped apartment I collapse onto my unmade bed, utterly exhausted from all the lectures and seminars.

Jerome, who's hunched over a _Criminology _textbook, looks up and smiles faintly.

"What are you so happy about?" I complain, kicking off my shoes.

"Oh nothing," he says vaguely, still grinning like a madman.

I mumble, "Whatever, dude," and turn so I'm face down on the bed.

A crumpled up piece of paper hits my back and I abruptly sit up, glaring at my roommate.

"What was that for?" I demand, hurling it back towards him.

He expertly catches it and swiftly tosses it into the bin, "You've got to get up; we've got planning to do!"

"Planning?"

"Indeed, Alfredo," he rubs his hands together, "I've chosen the target of our newest and deadliest prank."

"And who would that be?" I inquire dryly, uncaring.

"Mick Campbell," he says with a glint in his eyes.

Suddenly my interest has peaked, "_Oh_. He _does_ seem like the ideal candidate for a humiliating prank."

"Could not agree more! Now I do have a few choice pranks that I've been hiding up my sleeve for a special occasion…"

* * *

**Patricia's PoV**

The journey back to Oxford is a particularly drab experience and one that involves a lengthy train ride. Now I'm leaning against the train window, trying to think of ways to entertain myself. My phone is nearly out of juice and the only other source of amusement is my _Advanced Psychology _Textbook, while rather informative, does not keep one occupied in the way one wants when one is hoping to pass the time. But then my hand brushes against the battered copy of the first Harry Potter and I know what I have to do. I pull it out and sigh dramatically, there's currently nothing else to do and anyway, I must read it to hold up my end of the bargain. So then I began reading it.

Which was a _massive _mistake.

For the life of me, I could not stop reading it. I read it the entire train ride home, as I walked to class, any spare moment during class when I was not taking notes or otherwise occupied, and for the rest of the night. When I finally read the final line on that last tattered page I shut the book with a resounding thump. Through bleary eyes I saw the time, one in the morning. And then I realized a few horrible things.

First, I had just read the first Harry Potter in one night, a book I had sworn on my life that I completely despised.

Second, I had loved every single word of it.

Third, Fabian Rutter was going to find out.

Fourth, I was going to have to admit that I was wrong.

And the final and worst thought of all, I _had _to get my hands on the second book without anyone knowing how much I loved the first.


	6. Sincere Heart

**Mara's PoV**

It's a Saturday morning on campus, the birds are happily singing their sweet tunes and few students are out. Most are either sleeping in, returning from graveyard shifts, or heading out to early morning shifts. Though Victor can be a grouch he _does _let us come into work in the late afternoons on Saturdays. I highly suspect Trudy goaded him into that but I still appreciate it nonetheless. As for me, I like to enjoy my lecture free Saturday mornings with a walk around campus. After I finish I'll probably head back to my dorm room and enjoy some breakfast and reading.

But a familiar face interrupts my thoughts, Mick Campbell rushes past me, nearly knocking me over.

"Mara!" he exclaims, panting heavily, "Gosh, sorry, didn't even see you there!"

I push my hair out of my face and smile diffidently up at him, "No harm done."

"Argh," he grunts, smiling ruefully, "You're just too nice, Mara."

"It's a curse and a blessing," I rock back and forth on my heels, "So…how about you make it up to me by joining me for a walk?"

"Fair enough," he says as we start to walk, "My workout is over, anyway. I'm doing special training for our upcoming tournament down in the states."

"Exciting," I nod, my mind elsewhere, "Where will the team be going?"

"California," he answers cheerfully, "Been there before with my dad, it's real nice."

"I imagine so."

"Mars?" he cocks his head to the side, "Everything all right?"

"I just…have a lot of my mind. Can we sit?"

"Yeah, yeah," he looks perplexed but leads me by the arm towards an empty bench. Sitting down, I inhale sharply, mentally practicing my speech for Mick. Last night I couldn't stop thinking about how Joy's predicament's with Fabian is so similar to mine with Mick. Ever since she met him, Joy's been star struck with Fabian and I feel the same way about Mick. When I first laid on eyes on that giant sport playing, goofy grinning, teddy bear I was instantly smitten. Joy's never told Fabian how she feels about him and now he's got his eyes on Nina. She's going to lose any chance with him if she doesn't act soon. It got me thinking, now that I know Mick is interested in Amber I ought to tell him how I feel before he goes after her. Otherwise, I'll be left in his dust, forever regretting keeping my mouth shut. What if I'm attending his and Amber's wedding and the minister says 'speak now or forever hold your peace'? In a way, if I don't speak now, I'll forever have to hold my peace. Now I know that's a bit _extreme _but it's now or never.

"Mick," I say, inhaling slowly, "I'm not sure how to articulate my feelings very well on this subject, but here goes. I _really _like you. You're funny, you're nice, and we get along quite nicely. I may not exactly be the sporty girl you're looking for but I think we could make this work. Would you fancy going out on a date with me and giving it a go?"

"Mars," he says finally, looking uncomfortable, "I like you too, Mara, but only as a friend. That's all I can ever view you as. And I don't want to ruin our friendship by doing something like this, what if something goes wrong and we don't ever talk again?"

Of course.

How could I be so stupid?

I should have expected his unaffectionate response.

"You're right," I tell him, my voice catching, "Sorry I even brought it up. Forget I said anything."

"I'm glad you understand. Friends?"

"Friends," I repeat numbly.

"Great," he grins, "See you around?"

"See you around."

And then he stands up, unaware of how painful it was to me to see him so quickly dismiss my feelings, and jogs away, not even looking back.

Then come the irrational tears.

They're not tears of sadness, just ones of frustration at myself.

So I just sit there on the bench, making a complete fool out of myself by crying. All my life I've read about heroines in books, strong female characters who no matter hopeless the situation are _never _helpless. And of course I've wanted to be like them, but now I realize I'll never be somebody special. I'm Mara Jaffray, too shy and nice for her own good. The girls in the books I read are strong and unyielding, never crying about something as silly as this. That's the problem with books; you get this glimpse of a better world with better people. But you're looking through glass and no matter how hard you try, you'll never get to reach out and touch them. Look, don't touch. Reading books makes you ache yet you still keep reading them.

So for a while I sit there, having my own personal pity party. It's pathetic, I know.

"Mara?"

I look up to see a familiar face and I hastily wipe my tears away.

"Hey, Jerome," I give him a small smile.

He sits down next to me and I breathe in and out deeply through my nose, trying to put on a happier face.

"Were you crying?" he asks innocently.

"Is is that obvious?"

"Kinda," he shrugs, scooting closer to me, "Want to talk about it?"

"Not at all."

"Is that girl code for I really want to talk about it but I prefer to hint towards it?"

A small laugh escapes my mouth, "When did you get so smart?"

"It helps to have a little sister," he smiles genuinely, "So tell me Jaffray, what low life broke your heart? And where might I find him so I can beat him up?"

* * *

**Joy's PoV**

The sun leaks in through the open window and falls on my face. Yawning, I lazily stretch and pull myself upright. One of my roommates, KT, is still fast asleep in the mattress adjacent to mine. She's snoring softly. My other roommate, Willow, is standing in front of the window with her back turned to me.

And directly to my right, her camera shutter keeps flashing, meaning that it's continuously taking pictures of me.

"Willow!" I shriek, yanking up my covers to hide my sleepwear.

"Good morning," she says pleasantly, turning around, "Did you sleep well?"

"Willow! _Why was your camera taking pictures of me sleeping?!_"

"Oh, that," she looks at camera pointed at me with great interest, "It's for Professor Botworthy's class."

"Is it?" I say sarcastically, "Oh then it's totally fine."

"Fabulous-"

"That was sarcasm! Of course it's not fine! You are _not _allowed to do that while someone is sleeping without their permission!" I hastily turn off the camera and scowl at her.

"Sorry," she shrugs lightly, unabashed, "We had an assignment to do time lapse photography. Obviously everyone is doing a flower growing or clouds moving. So I thought I'd do something different," her smile brightens, "Like people sleeping!"

"That is a _total _invasion of privacy," I moan.

"It's a unique approach!" she counters loudly, causing KT to stir.

"Unique or not, I will not let you hand in a video of me sleeping," I snarl, "Or KT for that matter."

KT grunts and slowly sits up, facing us with groggy eyes, "Wha?"

"Willow thought it would be okay to film us sleeping for a time lapse photography assignment," I tell her promptly.

"Because nobody else is doing that!"

Sighing, KT collapses back onto her bed, "Joy's right, just do something else. You could maybe do a city throughout the day? Or maybe people on a street?"

"Those are all being done," Willow pouts, giving me a pleading look.

"Originality is dead," I shrug, uncaring.

She sighs dramatically and flops onto KT's bed, "How am I supposed to be a creative filmmaker when others are always tearing my ideas down?"

KT sympathetically strokes Willow's wildly curly hair, "You'll figure something out. Creativity has no restraint and should not be torn down by others."

I roll my eyes, recalling when I first met my insane roommate. Dad had wanted me to be there first, so I was the first to arrive at my room. It was empty, so full of possibilities. I'd never met my roommates, only heard their names. So we began to set up my colorful bedspread and a few posters, then we said our tearful goodbyes, and my dad was off. I felt so worried that I'd be homesick despite the fact that the London Film Academy was only a few hours away from my home. Finally I met my first roommate, Kara Tatianna Rush, aka KT. We hit it off instantly when she complimented one of my posters and we quickly began to discuss our favorite directors. I thought that maybe I'd be okay, I could survive with someone as great as KT. Then came the quirky Willow Jenks, a girl who has no boundaries and an intense love for Mother Nature. At first I was ready to strangle her but over time she grew on me, her unusual methods and tastes become easier to deal with.

"Yeah," Willow mumbles, rolling over to face me, "I'm sorry, Joy. I just wanted to have an interesting project."

I exhale slowly, internally calming myself down, "It's alright, Willow. Just ask next time, yeah?"

"Willow do," she then giggles at her own mistake, "I mean, will do."

I throw a pillow at her and we both burst into a fit of giggles.

KT, who must be tired of being the diplomat, smiles between us, "I'm glad you two settled that. Now can we-"

An obnoxious sound fills our room, the ringtone my phone plays whenever Fabian calls. I resist the urge to slap myself when my heart skips a beat but I answer it anyway.

"Fabes?" I ask, trying to keep my tone even.

"Hey Joy," he chirps brightly, "Are you coming in today?"

"Of course, my shift starts at one."

"Yes, good! Great!"

"Fabes?"

"Yeah?"

"Any particular reason that you're asking me?"

"Oh! Yes, I er, need some advice."

"I don't mean to sound rude, Fabes, but couldn't you just ask me right now?"

"That's the problem. I need you as sort of an instructor slash prop. Well not prop, that sounds rather worrisome. Shall we say, someone to practice on?"

"Okay? Would you like me to come in early?"

"Yes that'd be brilliant! Oh thank you Joy for being so helpful."

"My pleasure. I'll see around…noonish?"

"Lovely!"

"Bye, Fabes."

"See you later!"

Sighing, I press end call and turn to my friends, slightly embarrassed they had to hear how desperate I sounded.

"And that's what 'done with liking Fabian' sounds like?" KT looks dubious, she and Willow know the whole Fabian story. Which consists of me meeting him, falling for him, realizing that he has zero interest in me, and then deciding that I'm no longer chasing after him.

"Mhhmm," I say unconvincingly, pursing my lips together.

"Oh Joy," KT clicks her tongue, "You're fooling yourself if you think that you can just get over someone like," she snaps, "that."

I hug my knees to my chest, "I know. But I can try, can't I?"

"It takes a long time to stop wanting someone," Willow interjects, "To stop thinking about them all the time, to stop looking at them to see if they're looking at you."

"You sound like me," I tease.

Her eyes are faraway, "I used to _be _you. I met this guy last summer; he was deeply handsome and had the most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen. Gosh, I thought he hung the moon."

"Was it a summer romance?" KT asks expectantly.

"I wish," Willow looks wistful, "We just hung out a lot. I always thought we had something special, but he never even gave me a second glance. When the summer ended he kissed me _on the forehead_."

KT groans, "Oh, what a jerk!"

"That's further than I've ever gotten with Fabian," I mutter under my breath.

"Anyway," Willow continues, "We kept in contact throughout the school year and guess what he talked about the most? This _amazing _girl in one of his classes; gorgeous, intellectual, and about everything I wasn't."

"I'm sorry-" I begin to say, but she interrupts me.

"Don't be. I learned a valuable lesson, guys are stupid."

"You got that right," KT agrees cheerfully, "So Joy, are you still going in early to see Fabe the babe?"

"Yes," I say quickly before they can protest, "So I can tell him the truth about pretending to share his interests and start to quit liking him."

"You keep saying that but somehow I don't think you can do it."

I stick my tongue out at her, "Either way, I'm going."

Sitting up, I go over to the mirror to try and brush through my hair. It's always a mess when I sleep on it wet and today is no exception.

"My hair looks like a bird's nest," I complain, vigorously brushing through a knot, "Not that I am trying to look good for Fabian."

Willow suddenly perks up, "Joy I've got a great mixture of natural ingredients that are great for-"

"I'm good," I use my free hand to wave her suggestion off.

Frowning, she quickly springs up. Then she darts over to me and steals the hairbrush out of my hand, yanks a hair elastic off of her hand, and hastily gathers her hair into a sloppy ponytail.

"I just realized," she says breathlessly as she quickly opens her door, "That I ought to do some yoga. Yoga is rejuvenating and gets the mind juices flowing. You two may join me if you'd like!" grinning, she dashes out the door. She's still barefoot, exposing her brightly painted toenails and her wild hair is falling out of her ponytail in wayward curls.

"Oh Willow," I shake my head.

* * *

**So it's been a while...sorry about that. I lost inspiration for a long time and summer's busy. This is the shortest chapter and honestly it isn't really a chapter at all but I figured you guys deserved something. Look it's Willow and KT! I added them in, though I still need to finish season 3. I'm planning on continuing this fic but for now I'm taking a break. No writing or worrying about writing for a while. So sorry you guys have to put up with my disgusting updates. Hope you like it and please review! Until next time...whenever that is. **

**ALSO I went through and fixed hopefully most of the errors in the previous errors. Why not read them again?**


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